The Young and the Ancient
by ThroughtheShadows
Summary: Alucard isn't really one for romance. But beauty is something he still cannot resist - even if it comes in the form of a sixteen year old girl. Reader x Alucard story. More of a fangirl fic. Rating may go up in later chapters. Please read and REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1 Encounter

**Author's Note – **Okay guys, this is how it goes. This is going to be a self-insert or reader insert fic. Obviously it will be an Alucard x Reader one as since there aren't very many of those and I want to try and write one. I know a lot of these turn out badly so I'm going to try my best not to screw it up. I hope you enjoy it, and please leave plenty of reviews. Oh, and this written more for a fangirl audience, so if you're not an Alucard fan or fangirl, you might be out of luck. Disclaimer – **I don't Hellsing or any other series of characters.** Oh, how I wish I owned Alucard though…(sniffles).

'_I don't want to die…_'

That was the phrase that kept going over and over in my mind as I lay face down on the grass, my body starting to go numb and into shock. I could smell my blood on the dirt around me; a coppery, iron sort of tang that annoyed my sense of smell. There was this odd purple haze beginning to fill my vision, like a giant velvet curtain. I was barely aware that I was shaking.

'_I don't want to die…!_'

As my fingers twitched from the vain effort to move my body, to try and pull myself across the ground, my mind starting going back into how I had gotten into this mess in the first place. I had insisted on taking an amazing trip this summer – long before I had to go back to my drab life at school – to Europe. London, England to be more specific. I had saved up every little cent I had just for this trip, had urged my family to come with me. I had planned out everything – the travel agent, the airline, where I would spend money, where we would stay and eat and entertain ourselves, the places that we would visit and the tours we would take. Everything.

Well… not quiet everything.

I certainly hadn't planned this, let alone ever dreamed that something like this could happen. I hadn't planned to get lost in the bad spots of London. I hadn't planned to find someone – _something_ – following us. I hadn't planned to suddenly be ambushed, torn away from my family as they were each dragged off in different directions. I… I hadn't planned to hear them scream…so loud and agonizing…and earsplitting… I hadn't planned… to see them _torn to pieces_ like that…!

As if I needed reminding, I heard another chilling, bloodcurdling scream. I knew it wasn't my family. They were already dead. They had been for some time now. Since before that…_thing_ with the zombies – or whatever they may be – had begun hunting me. Before it got a hold of me. Before I started dying.

Uncertain if the thing was following me again I started trying to crawl. I could only try and drag myself with one hand however. My legs were completely numb – almost impossible to move – and my other hand was trying to apply pressure to the sickening gash on my throat. But my fingers couldn't muster enough strength. My blood was still draining from my body. The 

purple curtain was closing in little by little. My fingers were digging into the soil just inches from my face, but unable to pull my dead weight with them.

'_I don't want to die_…_!_'

I must have been trembling but I was so preoccupied in fading away and trying to escape that I hardly noticed. I then heard boots approaching behind me, coming towards me. I was certain that it wasn't the thing that had been hunting me – I oddly remember him wearing sneakers – but I was still terrified. After all, who could walk so calmly after no doubt seeing the slaughter we had gone through, unless they had done something like that themselves? I strained again, choking and shaking.

The heavy but quiet steps stopped beside me, just within my line of vision. Sure enough, a pair of brown boots stood probably no more than four feet away. The hem of a burgundy coat brushed softly against their ankles in the small breeze. It sounded hollow and hissing as it rushed past my ear, tousling my blood-dripped hair in my face. I wanted to look up at the person by me, no doubt staring at me, but I couldn't. It probably would have made the gash worse anyway.

"You're losing blood at a rapid rate, and dying. A human could smell it," said a dark almost baritone voice from above me, almost sounding slightly amused.

'"_Human_"_?'_ I thought. '_Is he one of them? Is that why he said that?'_ Now I really wished I could see him. See if he had the same red eyes, the same wicked razor teeth…

"Your wound is bad – but not unfixable," he said as I tried to drag myself again. "So…? What do plan to do about it?"

The phrase that had been running through my head all this time came out of my lips unbidden, in a gargling choking gasp. "I don't want to die!" I barely got the words out before I started coughing up more blood, making the choking worse. My blood was staining the ground in splatters. I thought I might have heard him a chuckle, some sort of noise of approval… but I wasn't sure.

I heard a slight creak of leather and the coat brushing the ground as I fuzzily saw this person – perhaps this creature – kneel down beside me. I then realized through the haze of shock that he must have been immensely tall, for he was on his knees now, and I still couldn't see his face. Just his shoulders and the wisps of jet black hair that danced around his pale neck and red ascot. I barely made note of the black suit he wore underneath, how broad his shoulders were. It was getting harder to see him; the blood loss was making everything fuzzy.

The breeze hissed by us again, tossing my hair aside. In the dimly lit darkness I saw a gloved hand reach for me, barely felt it grasp my shoulder. The curtain was turning from purple to black. I struggled to keep my crying eyes from closing.

'_I don't want to die…!_'

'Of_ course you don't…You're not giving up – are you?_'

I could have sworn the second voice in my head was his that time. But of course, even in my disoriented state I knew that was impossible. I gasped again as I felt cold fingers brush the wound on my neck. I got one last, foggy look at the one beside me; all I could make out was the outline of him. Then I finally faded out, hoping, praying that I would wake up.

My eyes were still closed but I realized that I was not where I had been. To begin with, there was something plastic around my face, a tube blowing oxygen into my nose. It was uncomfortable, especially compared to the soft bed I lay on.

'_A bed. I'm on a bed. That's probably good.'_

I finally flexed my eyelids and stubbornly opened them. I wished that I hadn't as soon as the one light in the room – which was a lamp above my head and bed – blinded me. I made a small grunt, and then stopped when it hurt my throat, closing my eyes. After slowly letting them adjust, I opened them again. I saw that past the lamp was a plain ceiling made up of white tile. It finally dawned on me, as I began to hear a steady beeping noise, that I was in a hospital.

I was alive.

I almost cried with relief at the fact that I had survived, but I felt so I tired, I probably couldn't have sobbed if I wanted to. When I turned my head in the direction of the beeping noise – the heart monitor I realized – I became dizzy and nauseous. As since I wasn't in much pain - just a little numb and sore for now – I could only conclude that they had given me plenty of pain killers. Probably morphine. I'd been in a hospital before and I had needed morphine then – it always made me sick.

As I stared at the IV bag dripping fluids into me – thanks to the needle in the back of my hand – and at the beeping monitor, it all came back to me. I was in London, England in a hospital…alone. My family was dead. Slaughtered. I became nauseous again, and not because of the morphine. I had almost died at the hands of some sick monster, and somehow I had gotten here.

As this fact went through my sluggish mind, I began to shiver. I was freezing. My limbs were all freezing cold. My fingertips felt like rounded tips of ice, my hands like ice sculptures. My whole body felt like a thawing ice sculpture. I shivered and my teeth began to chatter, making my throat ache and sting. I couldn't stop. Somewhere to my left I heard a door click open and someone shuffle in quietly. They went right to the side of the bed where I could see them.

It was a young woman, probably no older than twenty-five, in scrub pants, and a scrub top colored in various shades of blue. She was a little small with her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She bent down a little over the bed, peering down at my face.

"Oh good. You're awake. We're so glad you made it," she said in a soft quiet voice. "Are you cold? In pain, dear?" I nodded slightly, as much as my neck would allow and tried to move my hands to pull up the thin covers of my bed. "Okay. How bad is your pain? Do you need some more medication?" I shook my head slowly. That was the last thing I needed; the chills and an even more upset stomach. "Okay. I'll grab you a couple of warm blankets then, and tell the doctor that you're awake. Your nurse will see you soon." She pulled up the thin top blanket for me and left. I wanted to tell her thanks but my neck was so sore, I doubted that I could speak.

I lay there, trying to control my shudders, staring up at the ceiling again. The beeping of my heart on the machine changed slightly but not much at my efforts. As my mind started to clear, I began to realize that my pain was a bit worse than I thought. My chest protested slightly with every breath I took. My left leg was becoming sorer as time passed. I became aware of a few stinging cuts on my face and in my scalp. But that was all.

After trying to still my shaking for a few minutes, I heard the door click open again and saw the nurse walk in with two folded blankets, and a female doctor following behind her. I knew she was a doctor – probably the same one who had fixed me up – because she wore one of the long white coats. As the nurse began unfolding the heated blankets and placing them over me on one side, the doctor leaned over me on the other. Her nametag confirmed her status. **Dr. Sonya Neilson**, it proudly read with a colored photo right next to it.

"Hey there, sweetie. How are you feeling? You don't have to answer that," she said, cutting me off even before I could try to speak. "It's best if you don't even make a sound. Your throat is pretty banged up." I nodded to show her my cooperation. "Tillie told me you woke up and were a little cold. You're not in much pain are you?" I shook my head slowly again. "Good, that's good. Now, I'm going to check your vitals and your bandages. I'll call your nurse in when I'm done, okay?" I nodded again.

I lay absolutely still as Dr. Neilson carefully picked and prodded at the bandages on my neck, soaking up the heat from the toasty blankets. I wondered idly if they micro-waved the blankets or just put them in a giant dryer, wondering anything that would get the incident that had happened earlier out of my mind. It didn't help much; I could still screaming faintly and quietly echoing in my head. The doctor peered at the IV and the monitor for a moment, told me to press the button on the bed-railing labeled nurse if I needed anything, then left with a smile.

Shortly after she left another woman came in. She was heavy built with a little bit of pudginess, and short curly auburn hair. She had pink red cheeks, and for some reason she reminded me of some sweet nanny. "I'm Rosy," she told me as she carefully tucked in a loose edge of my blanket. "I'll be your main nurse while you're here. Just call on me if you need 

anything." I took comfort in tiny brogue-ish Irish lilt, glad that they didn't give me some stony nurse like they had in the last hospital I had been in.

"You're mighty lucky. Dr. Neilson didn't think she could patch up your neck like it was. And that giant dog that brought you in! Oh, wasn't he a huge brute?," she said to me softly, pulling a stethoscope out of the biggest pocket of her green shirt. "You don't know what happened to you, do ya?," she asked, no doubt noticing my confused expression. She tucked it away as I assented. I know what happened to me – before I blacked out.

"Oh, gracious." Rosy looked around the room, before turning back to me. "I probably shouldn't tell ya. Doctor's say it isn't good to bring up traumatic things while a patients healing, but…" She paused biting her lip. I mouthed the word "what", trying to urge her on. "I and Tillie – the young girl that came and checked on you – were having our evening break outside on the front steps when you showed up. Or rather that beast did. A giant black dog – the most massive thing I've ever seen, big as a horse! – with you dangling on his back. We figured he wasn't good news so we tried to grab at you and scare him off. But.."

Rosy paused and in my frustration to know more, I squeaked, stinging my throat again. "Easy now, take it easy. I'll tell you," she soothed, patting my shoulder. "Just not right now. It would be best if I didn't tell you now. But I promise I'll tell you when you get feelin' better. Alright? Now…You go ahead and get some rest, and just call me if you need anything."

I was disappointed that Rosy wouldn't tell the rest about how I got here. Obviously it wasn't by ambulance, and it certainly wasn't anything that any hospital was use to. But in a way she was right. I was suddenly exhausted, and I probably would have asleep if she had told me the rest anyway. So instead, with some reluctance, I finally willing went to sleep.

**Author's Note – **I know this isn't exactly the best chapter ever written, but I'm trying. If you think I should give the reader a name – to prevent confusion – just leave some suggestions behind. Sorry if it's a little too fast too, but I'll pace it better with following chapters. Please leave me reviews, so I know how to make this better, even if they are harsh. Also leave me some suggestions for future chapters. Thanks and hope to give you the next one soon.


	2. Chapter 2 Recovery

**Author's Note – **Okay, uhhh… I'm kinda stuck on listening to Trace Adkins right now. So if my writing seems off even the slightest – as in the chapter doesn't seem "anime-ish" enough or this doesn't sound like Hellsing at all – then I apologize. I'll try not to let the music affect my writing. I also plead guilty for being lazy; I should probably be updating my other fics, like Walter's Prison or A Horrid Hellsing Vacation, but I feel like working on this one right now. And I would like to send out a HUGE thanks to **Jillato** for leaving me a review – even if it was at 1:30 in the morning. I really appreciate it; I've been in dire need of reviews. Anyway, for those who have decided to stay with this series, I hope you enjoy the chapter. Disclaimer – **I do not own Hellsing or any other series or characters.**

When I woke up for the second time in the hospital bed, it was a lot less stressful than the first. I wasn't blinded – even though someone had drew back the curtains and the sun lit up the rather blank walls – and my stomach was pretty much settled, although beginning to demand some food. I was pretty sore, but I was more than willing to deal with it and not have to take medication for some time. I made a mental note to ask Rosy – if she was still on shift – what exactly was the extent of my injuries, other than my throbbing neck.

And I how I got here.

As I slowly wiped the sandman's dust from my eyes, what she had told me so far all came back to me. Surely I had heard her wrong. A giant black dog brought me to the hospital? A supposed brute? I must have had too much morphine, or she was exaggerating. Even _if_ a giant dog had brought me here, I had to doubt that it had been as big as a horse. There was only one dog that big that I knew of, and it was in the book of Guinness' World Records. And I doubt that _that_ dog just happened to have been walking around London, and took me to the hospital.

'_Still,'_ I thought as I looked over the IV needle in the back of my hand again. '_After what happened to me last night – I guess I could believe in just about anything._' I then went into another fit of mourning, grieving silently for the loss of my family. I couldn't help but feel completely guilty – I felt like I had killed them. Maybe if I hadn't insisted on going to London… Maybe if I hadn't even asked them to come… They'd still be here. Maybe I wouldn't be all alone in a foreign country. Maybe I'd be waking up in my own bed back home, hearing Mom cooking her mouthwatering bacon and pancakes like she always does on a weekend.

'_Did_,' I corrected myself. '_Like she always DID. She won't be doing it anymore._' I felt the tears well up in my eyes and spill over mercilessly. As if sensing a different kind of suffering, I heard the door click open and Rosy came in. She had a clipboard in her hand and a pen in her front pocket. I tried to stifle my sniffles and wipe the moisture around my eyes and cheeks. She took one look at me and smiled at me pityingly.

"It's alright," she smiled, standing by the IV. "We found out about you… and your family." She shook her head. "Ya have every right to cry."

I didn't say anything, didn't even nod. I simply stared down at my fists, the ones that looked pale, slim, and bruised, holding the sheets. She was trying to help, I knew that. But there are a few things that I just cannot stand – and pity is one of them. I hate when something bad happens, then people look at me like she was now. Probably thinking "how sad", or "poor thing".

Or even "how pathetic".

My fists tightened involuntarily and I heard my wrist pop. I flinched – it sounded like a hollow bone snapping. I bit on my lip till the top layer of skin split. Rosy bent down to look at me – I could feel it. Her gaze was on my face.

"Jolene? Are you alright?," she asked softly. I nodded and then changed my mind and told her.

"Are you in pain?"

I shook my head again. I looked at her, suppressing my urge to cry again and pointed at myself.

"Something wrong with your chest?" I shook my head and pointed at myself more insistently. She looked at my pointing finger then me, still confused. I sighed and gestured to the clipboard, holding up my hands in a polite "gimme" way.

"Good idea," she said. "I'll let you write it down." She handed the slightly clunky board into my fingers as well as the thin pen in her pocket. I nodded, showing her my thanks then turned back to the board. I looked over what was on the sheet. It looked like it was a complicated chart describing my condition and wounds in medical jargon, and the medication that the staff was pumping into me. I noticed a couple of signatures – one being Dr. Neilson's – and made note of the other two I barely could make out. Then I flipped the paper back over the board, careful not to rip it, and started writing on the blank sheet behind.

When I was finished writing what I wanted to say, the top of the page was filled with a couple of sentences in my tiny scrawl that read; My full name is Jolene Abbey Tompson. But I go by J.J. Or Jo if you want. I don't mind which. How banged up am I?

I handed it back to Rosy but kept the pen in case I needed to "speak" again. I watched her eyes flit over my handwriting then smile a little. "J.J., huh? Or Jo?" I nodded. "Well sweetie, I'm a little old fashioned. Can I just keep calling you Jolene?" I shrugged and nodded, though a little annoyed. I sometimes thought my name was a little too… Victorian or something.

Rosy sighed and flashed me a smile as she tucked the clipboard back under her arm. At least she wasn't looking at me with pity again. "You're well aware of your neck problem. But thankfully that's the worst of your injuries. Three of your ribs are rather bruised as well as your left leg, and your jaw has a hairline fracture. You won't need surgery for it though. It's just going to continue to sting. If the pain you're 'supposed' to be feeling shows up in that area, just let us 

know. It'll take some time to heal," she explained. "And of course you'll probably be feeling a little anemic. But once you start eating solid foods again, I'm sure you'll do fine."

I nodded yet again and asked for the paper again. I scribbled down two questions and handed it back to her. She read it, frowned for a brief second, then tucked my instrument of communication back under her chubby arm again. "We're feeding you through the IV right now, and the only thing you can really take by mouth are little ice cubes. They'll keep you hydrated and help your stomach adjust until we can get something solid in ya. As for your second question…" Here she paused and she sighed again. This time it was her turn to shake her head. "I'm not so sure if telling you the whole story is a good idea right now."

I frowned a little and made a tiny noise of frustration. "I know I promised ya that I would tell ya," she replied, instantly reading my expression. She looked around the room, walked over the window to look out of it for a moment as well, then came back to the bed. "I still got to go grab my breakfast. I've been up all night and I need some coffee…a big cup of it. So when I get back I'll tell you all I can recall alright? Just don't tell anyone that I told ya, okay?"

I pointed at the bandages around my neck in response. "Oh of course," she said, as if she thought she was daft or something and shook her head again. "I'll go grab my caffeine fix then and I'll be back. Do you need anything before I go?" I told her no. As far as I could figure, I'd be in here for awhile – might as well get use to entertaining myself. "I just hope telling you this won't give you nightmares." I felt a feeling of suspense at her last words as she went out the door.

When her muffled steps disappeared down the hall, I glanced down at the sheets again. In morbid curiosity, I shifted slightly and lifted them up. Underneath, my awkward blue surgery gown only went a little past my knees and she was right – my leg was pretty bruised. It was covered with a long shadow of bluish purple. It wasn't too dark thankfully, but I couldn't help but make a face at it. No wonder it was sore. I could only imagine how bad my ribs looked. I didn't dare take a peek; they were enough of a problem for breathing.

With a sigh, I sank back softly against the flat pillow behind me. I had a feeling that I wouldn't want to look in a mirror for some time. At least not until I could eat some real food again. Right on cue, my stomach barely grumbled. '_Get use to it_,' I thought. '_It's just ice chips for awhile_.'

Rosy came back sooner than I thought she would. In that time I had played three games of tic-tac-toe with myself, and played one of my favorite songs as well – all in my mind, of course. She came in with a steaming cup of coffee in her hand and set the clipboard down by my hand. "I ate as quickly as I dared," she explained. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting." I told her no with my head. I held back a groan when I managed to get a look of what was in her Styrofoam cup. She had fixed her coffee exactly the way I liked… And I wouldn't be able to have caffeine probably in at least a week or two.

Damn it.

"Alright. Where do you want me to start?," she whispered almost conspiratorially.

I picked up the clipboard and scribbled out my reply; Start at the beginning. Tell me _everything. _Don't leave anything out. I want to make sure I remember this right. Rosy read my scrawl and nodded.

"Okay. I'll try. Remember – I didn't tell you anything." I nodded impatiently. She had to give me a little more credit than that. Besides, she was a great nurse and I had no plans of having someone else take care of me unless it was necessary. I knew she'd have to go home some time, but still…

"Well… Tillie and I were taking our evening break. We were sitting out on the front steps like I told ya. I think she was telling me about her brother or her cousin, when she pointed you out down the street. 'Course we didn't know what you were yet, we just saw this hulking thing coming down the road. But then we did see you. And that giant dog that had you hauled up on his back."

I held up my hands, asking her to stop. I scribbled down on the paper again and had her read it. "You want me to describe the thing?," she asked puzzled. I nodded. If what she was about to tell me was true, I wanted a good mental image of what had technically saved my life. As bad of a memory this would probably all be, I needed to know.

"It was huge, as I said. Massive! I honestly thought he was some sort of livestock animal at first – maybe a large bull or horse that had somehow escaped to wander London," she said. "But when he got close enough, both Tillie and I saw with our own eyes that he was this gigantic dog." She paused, probably trying to pinpoint all the things that would describe him best.

"He…had this really thick fur. Pitch black, the darkest thing I've ever seen. It was kind of long, too. His paws were very large, and had those vicious looking claws at the end. They kind of made this scratchy clicking noise on the road when he walked. Um…He had a long body, and wide, with a broad chest. To be honest, he looked like the overgrown version of a cross between a Leonberger… and maybe a wolf. He had the head and tail of a wolf anyway – pointed ears and that long bushy tail – and a lean sort of look. But his size was bigger, and his muzzle wasn't quiet long enough, so it reminded me of a bigger dog breed. Like a mastiff or the Leonberger."

She paused again. I waited for a moment then quickly wrote another line. I handed the paper and she read it. "You have a good idea of what he looked like then? Alright, I'll continue. Me and Tillie watched him as he came down the road, and when he finally got close enough, we realized that you were draped over his back, passed out and limp as a ragdoll. He started coming up the steps and seemed to suddenly realize that we were sitting there. He lifted his head and looked at us. When I saw those red eyes of his I thought he was rabid. But then he growled at us 

and I changed my mind – I thought he was possessed. I thought I was hearing Hell growling right at me."

"But then he stopped – I could have sworn he looked right through me – and was silent. As we stared right back he practically trotted up the last few stairs, turned a little so we could get a better look at you, and held absolutely still. Tillie and I stood there for a moment and watched him kind of dance in place, like he was jittery, eager to leave or something, still staring at us. I finally snapped to my senses and right away I could tell that you were bleeding all over the place. So I slowly got up – so I wouldn't spook him – and started coaxing him to get closer. But he kept prancing in place, his claws digging at the steps, growling and what not like he was impatient with me."

"Finally he must have gotten too edgy. He kind of sidestepped over a pace or two, grabbed you by the arm with his mouth – I though he'd rip it right out of your socket with teeth in his maw! – and just flung you right into my arms. I was so surprised that I almost dropped you. He hadn't even left a scratch and he just leaped over all the stairs to the road…And he disappeared. High-tailed it out of there like the Devil was calling him home or something."

Rosy sat there in her chair looking at the floor as she remembered the mysterious hound running off. I sat there, suddenly realizing that I was leaning towards her. I was still having some trouble wrapping my head around all that she had just told me. If what she said was true…If she wasn't exaggerating…Well, it was quiet a story that was for sure.

I looked over by the window and noticed that time had flown by. It wasn't early afternoon anymore. It was late afternoon, probably getting close to four. It was surprising how we had both been so caught up in the tale of my arrival at the hospital. The story wasn't that long was it? Noticing my gaze, Rosy sighed. "It's a little late. I should probably check on Tillie and some of the interns." She smiled at me and chuckled. "And you look like you need some rest. Why don't you go ahead and take a nap? You'll probably wake up in time for your dinner. We do need to keep you hydrated after all."

I handed her the clipboard so she could check my vitals again then I laid back against the pillow. Rosy walked over to a small closet by the window that I hadn't noticed before, pulling out a fresher and plumper looking pillow. She put it behind my head, saying that I couldn't sleep with a cotton ball under my head. I just smiled and waved as she went out. As I lay there, trying to doze off, the mental image of the giant dog that she had painted in my head whirled round and round. Before I finally fell asleep, I wondered if he was still running around the city…

My nap was a little longer than I thought it would be. When I opened my eyes for the second time that day, there was no more sunlight. The only illumination that came into the room was from the lamp above my head and very little light from the waxing moon outside and maybe one or two lights from the city. The room was pretty dark once you were about three feet away 

from the bed. I yawned a little and shifted to a straighter position on the bed. I was more tired than I had originally thought, and made another mental note to take Rosy's advice more often.

I wasn't sure what time it was – the clock was right above my head and I couldn't read it – but I had a feeling that my "dinner" would be arriving soon. Someone had to turned on my lamp after all, and they would only do that if someone was going to be coming by soon. So my best guess was that it was roughly seven-thirty. Maybe eight even.

After a few minutes of waking up, Tillie came in with fresh warm blankets. "You looked kind of fitful in your sleep when I checked on you," she said in her tiny voice as she removed last night's blankets. "I thought these might help in getting a better rest." I smiled, grateful that she was being so nice. I was surprised too that I had not one but two great nurses. I somehow doubted that that happened too often. She draped the new blankets over me and tried to help what I could. All this treatment was making me feel like a freeloader – even if I was in the worst condition I had ever been.

Tillie checked my IV bag before she left, which was when Rosy showed up with another Styrofoam cup. It wasn't steaming this time and when she sat down, I saw why. It was filled with crystalline and thin ice cubes. Or rather little ice chips, no thicker than a nickel. "This is what I was telling you about. This is about as solid as it gets. Until you get better of course." I held back a frown, glad that I could at least have something actually in my stomach.

Rosy pulled a plastic spoon out of her front pocket – no doubt a clean one straight from the kitchen or something – and dipped it into the cup. When I realized she was going to try and feed me herself, I held up my hands and shook her head. As she looked at me confusedly, I took the spoon and cold cup of ice from her hands, showing that I was still able to feed myself in my condition. "I'm sorry. I apologize. I'm use to people in your kind of state being too tired to eat them themselves," she said laughing solemnly. I smiled back showing her that she was forgiven and balanced an ice chip up and into my mouth. I chewed on it for a second – trying not to freeze my teeth – then when it was half melted I swallowed. It hurt a little to swallow but manageable.

By the third chip, I handled it just fine, listening to my nurse make small talk – although obviously I wasn't exactly the best conversationalist right then. It was as she told me about some of the other kids along the hall – since I was a minor they had put me in the children's ward – I balanced an interesting ice chip on my spoon. It was oddly shaped, with some spiky but unthreatening ends. I held it up to my eyelevel as I lay back on my fluffy pillow. As I stared at it I noticed something odd about the room behind it. My gaze dilated and focused to the sudden new object of interest, wondering what was different all of the sudden. I nearly gasped, my lips parting.

Across from me, clinging close to the curtains – almost hiding there – near the window was a familiar sort of shadow. My eyes could just barely make out a familiar silhouette among the shades of black… one with broad shoulders.

**Author's Note – **Yep, I'm leaving you a cliffy. I know a lot of people hate cliffies – I hate cliffies – but I'm leaving you one anyway. LOL. Anyway, I hope you don't mind the name I decided to give the character (who is supposed to be the Reader by the way). I was thinking of just doing the whole "Insert your own name here", but they are so annoying and I just couldn't write it that way. Yeah, it's a little long, but it could have been way longer if I hadn't dropped it right now and left the rest for the next chapter. The reason I had Alucard show up in this chapter is because I know there are a few readers like me out there who hate waiting too long for their favorite No-Life King to show up in the story. So here you are with a cliffy. Thanks for reading guys, and I hope you like it. Please leave me a review, even if it's harsh, and I'll work on the next chapter when I get the chance. I would also really appreciate it if you gave me some suggestions for later chapters, e.g., like stuff that you would like to happen between you and Alucard. After all, I'm kind of dedicating this fic to his extreme hotness! (Laughs evilly in her irrepressible fangirliness)

P.S. – I also want to thank **Lakara Valentine **for leaving a review, too. (hugs and hopes that they leave another review for chapter two).


	3. Chapter 3 Suspicious Minds

**Author's Note – **To start this off, I would like to thank all of those who left me reviews. I really needed those, and I'll need more to continue. Its kind of simple math. Me plus Your Reviews equals More Chapters! I'm glad that my previous round of music-listening didn't seem to throw the chapter off. I was a little worried that it might end up sounding…I don't know… too different I guess. And as I expected, the cliffy was a little disappointing for you guys – or even irritating. So I apologize for that and for any misspellings and what not that I forgot or missed. My spell-check isn't always accurate. Anyway, I'm glad you guys seem to like it and I hope you stick with it. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Disclaimer – **Hellsing and its characters all belong to their rightful owners. I do not make any profit from this nor do I ever intend to do so. No copyright infringement intended.**

I stared over by the curtains at the figure. The figure I had seen just about twenty-four hours before, the one that had perhaps technically saved me. Numbly, I felt the once interesting ice chip slide off the spoon and into my lap. I didn't even blink as Rosy quickly picked it off the blankets, saying something about not wanting to get me wet with my dinner. As she leaned back to throw the melting ice away, I slowly placed the half-empty cup on the edge of my bed with the spoon stuck in the ice. I tapped the back of her hand with my fingertips rapidly then grabbed her wrist and shaking it slightly when I didn't get her attention quick enough.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

I didn't look away, keeping my eyes pinned on the hidden occupant of my room, hoping that she would follow my eyes. She did and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her gaze scour the other side. I waited for her to make some slight noise of surprise, or perhaps squeeze my hand in realization. She stared over by the window for a moment longer then looked at me.

"What is it?," she asked again. I finally peeled my gaze away from the window and turned to stare at her. I was obviously confused. Surely she had to be able to see him. I gestured in his direction with my eyes, urging her to take another peek. She did but shook her head, seeming just as confused as I was. "I don't understand," she replied.

I looked up again at the curtains. He hadn't moved. Not a bit. I motioned with my hands for Rosy to quickly give me the clipboard. She handed it over as I snatched up the pen as well. I then furiously wrote in bold letters across the page; **Someone is **_**here**_**!** Rosy took the clipboard back and read my statement. Confused she looked back over at where I was stubbornly staring.

She gave me a smile and said, "There's no one here, sweetie. It's just us." I stared at her incredulously. Surely my eyesight was no better than hers. She looked like she was in her mid-forties at the most. Her vision couldn't possibly be that bad, even if she had some difficulty seeing in the dark. His one side was slightly silhouetted in the window for creep's sake! "I don't see anyone," she replied, echoing my thoughts.

I looked back up at him. He still hadn't moved. In frustration – and admittedly some panic as well – I pointed an accusing finger right at him. She looked again but I could tell by her expression that she was still blind to our viewer. I pointed more urgently as if to say, "He's right _there_!" But she shook her head.

"Jolene, no one is here but us. There's only one way in here and no one has seen anyone come down that hall all day but the nurses and the doctors. There can't be anyone in here." I knew that what she was saying was true – I could see it in her face. And her logic was very persuasive. But I knew that he was there! I could feel him staring at us!

'_No,_' I realized, staring back as Rosy stood up to get something. '_Not staring at us…_'

Staring at _me_.

I couldn't move my eyes to see where Rosy was but I could hear her shuffling around in the closet she had grabbed the fluffy pillow from earlier. She came back a few moments later and placed something into my hand. It was a medium sized flashlight, made out of metal with the button on the side. It felt a little heavy in my hands.

"Show me," she said, smiling at me reassuringly. I looked at her for only a moment then fumbled to push the button. It stuck for a moment until finally the light flickered on. I quickly raised it up. He couldn't escape now. If he moved we'd both surely see it and if he tried to go out the door, he'd be caught for sure. I adjusted the lens, making the beam a bright spotlight and planted it right on him.

He wasn't there.

I stared in utter confusion. I had seen him just before the light touched him…and yet, all Rosy and I could see was the fabric of the curtains. They hadn't moved, so he wasn't behind them, and I hadn't seen any kind of movement like I would if he had ducked down. So…where was he?

"See?," Rosy said. "No one there. Just us." I stared, suddenly feeling deflated – and foolish. I had let imaginary boogeymen get the best of me. I had let paranoia take over. I had let my imagination run way too wild. Rosy's story of how I got here was making me nervous like she said it would. I sighed and lowered the flashlight.

And he was there again.

I shook my head, my eyes narrowed. I lifted the flashlight and pointed. He was gone. Curious, I lowered the flashlight only a little, more towards his chest than his head. He was there, I could see his shoulder, but the rest of him was gone. I slightly gaped. I would never catch him…and he probably knew it. Rosy was his proof. In fact she was going on about how recovery sometimes messes with people. I wasn't listening of course. Something started bugging me 

running through my head. It wouldn't leave me alone, and I could hear my heartbeat slightly rising on the monitor.

'_What will happen…when Rosy leaves?_,' I thought. '_What will he do when she leaves the room?_' The idea alone of what could happen made my heartbeat rise a little higher. I wasn't sure how thin these walls and the door were, I might not be able to make enough noise. And then it dawned on me. I wouldn't be able to make any noise at all. I couldn't scream, not even hardly squeak. Not in my condition.

As if I needed anymore to worry about, Rosy stood up again, stretching her arms. "Well, dear. I think I should go. Your dinner is just water now, and I have a few other patients to check on." I looked at her with worry evident on my face. When she moved to take the flashlight, I tightened my grip. She sighed. "Alright, I'll let you keep the light. Just don't sleep on it or run out the battery, okay?" I nodded. I wouldn't worry about the battery. I had no intention of turning it on again. I just felt a tiny bit more secure with its metal body and weight. It felt a like a club in my hands and I was more than obliged to use it if necessary.

Rosy smiled, tugged up the warm blankets a little then told me to get some rest. I watched her go and sighed when I heard the door click shut behind her. I looked up at the window. '_Yeah. Like I'll be sleeping at all tonight. Especially when someone is staring at me._'

I exhaled a long breath through my nose and shifted slowly and carefully down into the covers. He was still there, only he finally seemed to have moved. He seemed to be leaning back now against the window and I could see just a little more of him. I saw the edge of his coat and the area where his neck joined his shoulder, perhaps some little wisps of his hair dancing on the folded collar.

I bit my lip and slid down even further into the covers till my neck and head were the only things visible. Suddenly feeling very self-conscious I tugged at the edge of my gown. It suddenly felt short, and probably would feel indecent if I didn't have the blankets guarding me. Disdain bloomed for my brief article of clothing – the only thing holding it on was the sleeves and the strings tied loosely in the back.

Damn it.

I thought of pulling out the thinner pillow and hiding my face behind it but changed my mind as soon as I touched it. He might turn it against me and smother me with it. I laid the flashlight right by my side underneath the blankets, so it would be easier to grab. Then I hesitantly reached up and turned off the lamp above my bed. I had no other option but to feign sleep, if at least try to actually obtain it.

He didn't move. I crossed my arms across my chest mummy style and rubbed the back of my arms. I couldn't lie on my side, not with the IV to get tangled in and my sore ribs. So I could 

only try and close my eyes and…perhaps forget that he was there. '_Yeah. Fat chance_.' I sighed again and looked up at the ceiling instead. I could still feel his gaze on me.

'_This is going to be a long night._'

I only slept for about six and a half hours that night instead of the eight or nine I originally would have had. I wasn't sure how I fell asleep in the first place. The last thing I remembered was watching my heartbeat on the monitor, pretty much eager for any sort of distraction from looking over at the window. I guess the slightly uneven rhythm must have relaxed me, because the next thing I knew I was opening my eyes to see the sun just streaming light into my window. He was gone of course.

To keep myself preoccupied – and delaying having to use mental games to exhaustion and boredom – I decided to test myself. I started with my head first. I slowly – very slowly – turned my head right then left. I could only go so far either direction before my gash would begin complaining, which was rather unpleasant and took some time to settle down. I could feel stitches now, plenty of them.

When the throbbing finally subsided, I tested my ribs. I used my fingers to do this, gingerly prodding them to see how much pressure they could take. I could only a little pressure before I would wince, so I gave up on them for now. Next was my leg. It was still really sore – though not as much as my ribs – so I took my sweet time with it. I twitched my toes, up and down. No pain there. So I bent my entire foot at the ankle. Just a twinge, nothing more. So I decided to try and lift the whole thing. That had different results, ones that had me wincing and hissing in pain.

I concluded my little experiments and decided that I would have to wait awhile until I went through therapy. It's something I'd have to ask Rosy or Tillie bout, whichever I saw first, and maybe even Dr. Neilson. It was a few minutes later that said surgeon came sweeping in. "Morning, Jolene," she greeted me. "How are you feeling today?" I held up my hand and did a so-so gesture. "Well that's better than how you probably should be feeling. Most teens in your case wouldn't be able to even understand half of what people were saying past the pain. You're pretty lucky." I shrugged off her compliment – I certainly didn't feel lucky.

The doctor took the seat next to my bed, setting her own clipboard on the bed. "Rosy told me that you thought someone was in your room last night. That you were…kind of scared. Is that true?" I frowned a little and nodded. "Did you see something?" I shrugged. It was obvious that I wasn't going to be taken seriously as easily as I would like. So I just decided I would play along with what I knew was coming. A lecture on night fears, being in a strange country, and the effects of paranoia and medication. Sure enough, she fired right off into her little monologue like a rocket…or perhaps a politician. I bore with it, nodding and what not when she wanted me to, until she was finished.

"Rosy also told me that you started talking to her using the clipboard. Is there anything you want to tell me?" I thought for a moment. I knew that if I so much as wrote a syllable about my family's death – which for some odd reason I was having a hard time not telling anyone – I would immediately be sent to the mental ward. And I knew that I was not crazy. So instead, after some moment of debate in my head, I asked her about how long it would take me to heal.

"Well, you're certainly not in the best shape of your life. Your injuries are a little extensive. So the sooner we get you into a rehabilitation program, the better. But that's probably not in a day or two, maybe more than that. If you keep healing at this rate though, I'm sure we can sign you up the day after tomorrow." I nodded and smiled. I certainly liked the sound of that. I wanted to get out of here. I needed to start over, as soon as I can.

"Okay. Remember, if you have any questions, just ask. If you can't ask me directly, you still have Rosy or Tillie. Anything else?" I shook my head. "Alright. Have a good day, Jolene." And she left without a word. Rosy swooped in her place.

"How did you sleep?," she asked. That's one of the things I liked about her – she didn't beat around the bush. I made the same so-so move that I had minutes ago. "And the flashlight?" I held it up and turned it on, showing her that I had not in fact burnt out the battery in my paranoia. "Good," she said as she took it and put it up. "Did your boogeyman swoop down and try to steal you away? No don't tell me. You beat him with the flashlight?" I just smiled. I would have laughed if she hadn't almost hit the nail right on the head. But considering that I wasn't supposed to make a sound, that was probably best.

Rosy didn't stay long though. She only had a minute to check on me before tending to a little boy down the hall, then left saying that she would have more time to visit during her lunch break. I thanked her the best I could and rested back on the pillows to think. I thought over the night before, trying to pick it apart, piece by piece. I couldn't figure it out. I had thought that maybe my…what would someone call a person like that? A stalker? A sort of morbid savior? Maybe a twisted guardian? An admirer? I highly doubted that last one for some reason. But I had thought that he would have taken me out. Changed his mind, and finished what my attacker hadn't been able to do.

But since that didn't seem to be the case, I decided to focus on another point of interest. He obviously wasn't human. Not even the most talented illusionist could pull off that hiding stunt, and I still remembered his choice of words from when I was dying. But if he wasn't human, what was he? And most importantly, what did he want with me? I shook my head. This really wasn't the best way to go about it. It was becoming more and more clear that the only way I would possibly get answers was if I interrogated him. I groaned at the idea – me trying to make a mysterious guy answer my questions by using a clipboard. Oh yeah, that would really work in a snap – to make him laugh, that is.

Still…Even if it was going to take awhile, I wanted answers. And I was bound and determined to get them. One way or another. I'd just have to wait until I could get them properly – with my voice.

**Author's Note – **I'm sorry this is so late. School started Monday, and I've been so busy I haven't been able to get this up. I was going to put it up Sunday but that didn't go as planned. In compensation, I will give you guys the next two or three chapters in three days tops. I know it's kind of short but I'm working on it. I hope you liked it and I would really appreciate it if you left me reviews…even if it's just to chew me out for being late.


	4. Chapter 4 Rehabilitation

**Author's Note – **Okay, so here's chapter four. I'll have chapter five and maybe six up as soon as possible to make up being so late on chapter three. Once again, I would like to thank all those people who left me reviews and those who are continuing to read this. I really do appreciate it and I hope this story stays good enough for you guys. And for those of you, who are worried that Jolene will suddenly turn out to be a really special girl with super powers or something, don't fret. It isn't going to happen. She's basically going to stay as an average girl. This is supposed to be a self-insert fic after all, and I doubt many of you would have the ability to fly or read minds and so on. So, Mary-sues will not be allowed! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and please leave plenty of reviews. Disclaimer – **I do not own Hellsing or any other series or characters. I do not make any profit from this, nor will I ever intend to. No copyright infringement intended.**

As promised, Rosy came back sometime after her lunch break and visited with me for awhile. When I asked, she told me that they had had to throw awaymy clothes because they were so bloody and torn. I wouldn't have to worry about leaving the hospital in the nude though; some of the staff and Dr. Neilson had managed to have my personals sent from the hotel where we had been staying, clothes and all. I was thankful for that, reminding myself to check and see if my money was still in my bag as I had left it.

"You'll be starting rehabilitation," Rosy said, checking the IV needle in my hand. It had begun stinging not too long ago and I saw that it had drawn a tiny bit of blood into the tube. I knew that that was natural though and nothing to worry about. "In about an hour I believe. Tillie will come by to take you to meet your new nurse. The one who will help you progress back to your normal health. It'll be up to them to decide how often you'll be attending the program, too. And Dr. Neilson of course. We don't want you to over do it."

I nodded. She took one last glance at the needle in the back of my hand again, confirmed my thoughts; the blood was nothing to worry about. "We'll have to wheel the IV with you when you head down to meet your new nurse." I frowned but agreed. She then stood up, fluffed my pillows a little then smiled. "Just set yourself a decent pace when you start rehabilitation, okay? If you push yourself too hard, you'll only slow down the healing process. Just go as much as you think is right."

I smiled and nodded again. It still felt awkward not talking. Rosy bid me good-bye, letting me know that she planned to be back in the evening, and left. I entertained myself for the next half hour, moving from tic-tac-toe to singing another favorite song of mine in my head. When I got to the second verse, an idea suddenly came to me. I reached over and pressed the nurse button on my bed rail. A nurse answered; "Hey, there. I know you can't say what you need, so I'll call up Tillie and send her to your room, okay? She'll be there in a little bit." She hung up and I leaned back in bed. Within ten minutes, Tillie came in. "Did you need something?"

I motioned for the clipboard and she handed it to me. On the blank page I wrote; You have my stuff from the hotel somewhere, right?

I handed it back and after reading it, she nodded.

I wrote again; Could you please get my mp3 player?

Tillie read again and nodded. "Sure. I don't think they'll mind. Just let me know where it is and I'll probably be able to dig it out for you." I took the clipboard back again and described my device's location in one of my bags. Then she headed off, assuring me that she would be back soon.

'_There,_' I thought. '_Now I'll have something to entertain myself without having to over use my brain cells._' Tillie was gone for about fifteen minutes – most likely because I had stuffed my mp3 with a bunch of my other junk – before holding up it up as she came back in. "Here you go. Some music for you to listen to. That should keep you from getting bored. Lot's of kids in here get that way after awhile if they don't have something to preoccupy them." I took it from her hand and thanked her with a little grin, flashing a thumbs-up at her. She laughed and left again.

I turned on the little hunk of plastic and electrical circuits. The screen lit up and I smiled. I scrolled down the list of artists, debating which song would suit my mood. Finally, deciding that I needed something at least a little positive if not cheery, I settled on Crazy Frog. Usually I didn't listen to it unless I was really hyper but today I made an exception. I only got through two or three of the best songs though before Tillie came back. This time she had a wheelchair with her.

"Time for you to get started," she said. I sighed. She lowered the bed rail on the side with the IV and set up the extensions where my feet would rest when she would wheel me around. It wasn't till I moved to hop off the bed did I realize how much improvement I needed. I would certainly have fell right to the floor if Tillie hadn't have caught me. My legs felt thin and small. They wouldn't hold my weight unless I held onto something – in this case it was my nurse. I frowned as Tillie helped me into the chair. I suddenly felt small, weak, and weightless…like water or fading bits of smoke. It was a feeling that I did not like.

Tillie took a hold of the IV and began moving me out of the room. I then realized that this was the first time I had ever been outside of my little hole in the wall. Beyond the door, the hall was a little blinding. It was almost all white; white tiled floor, white tiled ceiling, bright white light fixtures overhead. The only things that broke the monotony were the few blue and purple tiles on the floor, and the swirly abstract panels of wallpaper just above the floor and below the ceiling. Those were a light turquoise, too. It was both a soothing and somewhat annoying color combination.

We went down a few long halls, making only one or two turns before stopping before an elevator. Tillie and I were lucky to find it empty and she pushed the button for the second floor. My room was on the third one. The elevator jolted then dipped down for a moment or two. The doors opened again and we swept out. This hall was the same as the one above, only the colors had been changed a little. The wallpaper was purple now and the few colored tiles were turquoise and blue.

I was wheeled into a more open room than mine, with a grey ceiling. There were rails and treadmills and other things that I couldn't immediately recognize pressed up against the walls. Gym mats covered certain areas of the floor and jump ropes hung on a hook in a corner. As I began to wonder exactly I was being swept into, a guy walked into the room from a door across from me at the other end. He appeared to be in his early thirties with short dark brown hair and a big build. His arms were not exactly beefy, but they certainly looked like he had been lifting. So did the width of his chest. I gulped.

"Hey Tillie," the guy said. "Is this Jolene?" I blinked. It suddenly hit me that he wore scrubs like hers only they were a darker blue. It should have been obvious right away that he was my new nurse. Once again, I wondered what I had gotten myself into.

"Yes, this is her. She goes by Jo or J.J. though," Tillie answered. "J.J., this is Nick. He's going to be your rehabilitation coach." Nick stuck out his hand and I took it, a little hesitant. His grip was firm but not crushing.

"Hey, J.J. How are you feeling today?" I stuck out my thumb horizontally to show him. "In the middle, huh?" I nodded. "Well you kind of look like you've gone through a rough patch. You mind if I take a look at your neck?" I nodded and turned my head to the side. I felt his large fingers gingerly move the fresh bandages aside – only a tiny bit of them – peeking at the wound I had yet so see. I heard him blow out a sharp breath like a hiss between his teeth. "Ouch…That looks pretty nasty."

I refrained from rolling my eyes. '_That's a real confidence booster there, Nick. Thanks a lot. Now I'm going to go crazy wondering how bad this is._' He pulled back his fingers after carefully putting back the bandages in their rightful spot and leaned back on his heels in front of me. I turned my head back to look at him.

"There's not much I can do about that. Certainly not until Dr. Neilson says it's alright to proceed with it. But I bet that you're kind of weak in the knees." I nodded, frowning again at my legs and their round of mutiny. "Don't worry. We'll get you walking in no time. This isn't going to be easy but it shouldn't take too long either…if what Dr. Neilson said about your speedy recovery is true." He stood up. "Tillie, let's roll her over to the bars over there. We better get started."

Tillie nodded and moved me over to two bars about waist high, standing side by side. The gap in between them was just big enough for someone my size to get through. I had a feeling of what was coming. "Alright, J.J. I'm going to have you try to stand up and walk between these bars, okay? Put your hands on them if you need to – you probably will – and don't worry about falling. Tillie and I will help you. Ready?" I sighed. Finally after almost glaring at the two thin hunks of metal, I assented. "Alright. Let's try to get you out of the chair then…"

An hour later, Tillie rolled me back into my room and helped me slump back into my bed. I was tired. Scratch that – I was exhausted. I hadn't thought that my legs would have been so feeble. But I had been mistaken. After the first ten minutes of trying to walk between the bars – using my palms as support on them – I had broken out into a cold sweat. I couldn't believe that my legs were so incapable of an ordinary task after only two days in the hospital. It didn't make me feel any better about myself either.

Once Tillie had me fixed in my bed properly, she told me to get some rest before "dinner" came by. I nodded and slumped back into the pillows, covers, and the mattress. I stared at the heart monitor that I had been reattached to and sighed. If I was stuck in this program for weeks… I wasn't sure if I could do it. And I really wanted to get out of the hospital as soon as possible.

I shifted into the covers, pulling them over me as best as I could. I don't know how long I took a nap but when I opened my eyes the sun was pouring gold and orange and red streaks through my window. As I blinked the door opened and Rosy walked in with another Styrofoam cup. My timing was almost uncanny. "Time to eat. You look like you could use something in your stomach. Rehabilitation can do that – build up an appetite I mean."

She handed me the cup again and I ate the chips, a little more slowly than the first time. It wasn't actual food but she was right. I needed something in my stomach and this certainly helped. About twenty minutes later, I handed her the empty cup and the spoon and sighed back into my covers. "You still look tired," she commented much to my chagrin. "You should probably get to sleep earlier tonight." Then she smiled at me. "Are there any boogeymen in here tonight?," she joked. I looked around the room and shook my head. I didn't see any. "Alright then, you go ahead and get some sleep. I won't be here in the morning – tomorrows my weekend off." I nodded again and she bid me goodbye.

I turned my head carefully and once again stared at the heart monitor. I listened to the electrical sounds of my heartbeat. It seemed that within a few short minutes, I fell dead asleep.

I don't know why I suddenly woke up. But the next thing I knew, my eyes had groggily fluttered open. I held back a groan, instantly remembering my neck and blinked. It was dark with only a tiny bit of illumination coming through the window, provided by the city outside. My room was decked in shadows and I shifted again in the blankets. I rolled my head on the pillow 

to get a better look at the window. Perhaps my "visitor" had come back; perhaps he had decided to get rid of me. But when I looked over at the curtains where I had saw him last, he wasn't there. I couldn't see him anywhere over in the shadows there either. With a sigh – for relief of not finding him and also for being aggravated waking up for nothing – I rolled by head back to the other side to watch the heart monitor again.

He was standing by the bed.

I stiffened and I heard the heart monitor reflect the sudden skip of my pulse. Then the beeping began to rise. I couldn't see it on the machine though because he blocked my view, towering over the bed, a giant black mass. It was like he hid his full appearance in the air itself. I still couldn't make out his face, it was too dark.

As I watched a gloved hand rise into view, my heart accelerated again. I looked over at the nurse button – it was on his side, too close. I didn't want him to get hold of both of my hands when I had nothing to defend myself. I glanced over at the other bed rail – it also had a nurse button – and I fidgeted as his fingers glided along the rail by him. I had to call someone; Rosy, Tillie, Nick, someone, anyone.

I glanced at him with anxiety, trying to get myself to move over the mattress to the other rail. I tried to lift myself up quickly but my neck wound still made me dizzy with such urgent movements. So I started rolling over to reach for it. My one arm was wrapped up in the IV however, and rolling onto my side still made me gasp due to my bruised ribs. And gasping seared my throat.

I looked over at him again as I tried to think of a way to call someone. His hand had slid up the rail towards the head of the bed, stopping near by the long thin IV tube dangling over onto the mattress. His fingertip brushed it for a tiny split second then slid down the side by the buttons. I turned back to the other rail. I had no choice; I had to roll onto my ribs and hold back any gasps, even if it hurt.

Without hesitation, I shifted my weight, balancing on my side. Instantly my torso lit up, stinging and screaming at me. I bit on both of my lips to remind myself not to make a noise. Nonetheless, as I stretched my finger for the button, trying to ignore the pain in my battered ribs, a groan began to build up in my chest. It came up as a muffled whimper in my mouth. I think I heard him chuckle, which only made my heart skip again.

Soon after, I felt something on the back of my hand. I turned my head back to see his finger gliding over the tape that held the IV needle in place. The digit slid up the needle and stopped on the circular area where my blood had leaked back into the tube. The tip of the gloved finger tapped ever so softly on the tiny cylinder that contained the tiniest amount of my life fluid. I felt my eyes widen and I squirmed again for the button earning another fit of protest from my side.

Finally, after another furious flame of pain both in my neck and ribs, I pushed the nurse button. When I heard the nurse reply, I sighed and collapsed back onto the bed. I felt a brief feeling of relief, happy that I had managed to do it…until I realized that I couldn't tell them. I couldn't say _anything_. They wouldn't rush in here. They would take their time because they didn't know that something was _wrong_. And I couldn't tell them. I was stuck.

When the nurse finished telling me that they would send Rosy down in a moment, I found no comfort in her words. He would have plenty of time to kill me, after all. Especially as since I was still in my weakened state. I rolled off of my ribs making another whimper and looked up at him, pulling away my hand from him as best as I could. I didn't get it very far; it was pretty wrapped up in the tube. Looking up where his face was, I found that I couldn't look away. I was desperate to at least see my killer's face before I died.

It seemed like forever that I stared at him…and he stared at me. Even though I couldn't see his eyes, it was no different than the night before. I could _feel_ his stare on me. I faintly heard my heartbeat increase just a fraction more, waiting for him to finally end me.

I jumped when I heard the door click open and Rosy flicked on the light. He disappeared the moment a single shadow began to dissipate. She shuffled in and stopped dead in her tracks within a foot from the bed. She took one look at me and spoke; "Dear God, Jolene! What's wrong?" She moved down the bed rail and leaned over me. I didn't realize that I had broken out into a sweat until she wiped it out of my eyes. I didn't realize that I was crying because my ribs and throat were in so much pain until she shushed me.

"Take it easy, dear. It's okay now. Are you in pain? Where does it hurt, Jolene?" I pointed at my throat and my ribcage. In a flash she pressed the nurse button and informed the nurse that I was in severe pain and that she would be administrating medication. She hung up without another word, whipped out a syringe from her pocket, removed a bottle of some sort of fluid, filled the syringe only so much with the contents of the bottle and expertly injected it into the IV bag.

I didn't think to ask her what she was giving me. I didn't quiet care as long as it made the horrid aches go away. She leaned over me again, taking my hand trying to calm me down. I made no effort to put on a face for her. I couldn't – I was still scared, as much as I hated that fact. I couldn't get it out of my head of how close he had been. How his finger felt on the back of my hand. The scariest thing was that – even in my fear – it had almost felt natural, soothing. As if he was on the verge of putting me under some bad spell. I stared all around the room, waiting for something bad to happen, until Rosy's voice faded out and the heavy drug put me under.

**Author's Note – **I know, it's late again. But I'm trying guys. I've just been a lot busier than I had planned. I'm sorry if this one isn't any good. I was in a hurry to get it done and had to type pretty fast. I'll get chapter five done A.S.A.P. And don't worry – We will get to Hellsing HQ and all that good stuff very soon. PLEASE review, even if it's just to chew me out.


	5. Chapter 5 Petting

**Author's Note – **Okay. To start things off, I would like to apologize for how bad the previous chapter was. I know there are a few of you who are a bit disappointed, and I'm sorry. I was in a hurry to try and update while I had some time. I know I didn't get that one and this chapter out as fast as I said I would but I'm trying. You wanted more hospital scenes so I'll give you one more before we get out and about to Hellsing HQ. Does that sound good? I hope so. I would have more hospital stuff but I'm running out of ideas and I want to get the good stuff as bad as you do. Anyway, here's the next installment for this one. Disclaimer – **I don't own anything nor do I intend to ever do so, except for my own copies of the Hellsing manga and DVD's. No copyright infringement intended.**

I woke up the following morning with a small start. I suppose in my sleep I had feared that my creepy intruder would return during my medicine-induced rest. Whatever the case, my eyes snapped open and I feverently looked about the room until I realized that sunlight was streaming in again. I sighed and relaxed. I felt sore, particularly in my side. Of course, I had that coming after that rightful panic I had. The night before instantly flashed through my head and I almost shivered. This was getting worse. Far more than it should. I had to get out of here.

Lost in thought, I jumped out of my own skin when Tillie greeted me good morning. I flinched and made a noise like an airy grunt. "Sorry to scare you," Tillie amended. "But we had to check on your condition, see if you took a step back in healing. You understand, right?" I sighed and nodded.

She scanned my vitals, checked the IV, went over the heart monitor and had me do breathing exercises as she listened with her stethoscope. Tillie smiled as I let out another sigh as instructed. "You're fine. Just a little tired. In fact…" She paused and carefully peeled back my bandages, which I was sure they were in need of changing soon. She examined my neck carefully then placed the wads of gauze back and smiled again. "I'm going to go get Dr. Neilson. Just wait here, okay?" Then she left.

After a few minutes, Tillie came back in with my doctor. "Morning, J.J. Did you sleep a little better?," she asked. I did an impression of snoring and drooling, indicating that I had slept like a rock. I had to at least try to make light of the subject. "Good. Now, let's take a look at you." Then she proceeded to remove the bandages again. She peered at the wound I had yet to see, prodding ever so slightly. I heard her make a sound of perhaps approval then a small laugh. After a few moments she stood up again and smiled. "Good news, J.J. You get to speak again."

&

For the next three days – during which rehabilitation became a little easier bit by bit – I exercised my vocal chords. Dr. Neilson said it was best not to raise my voice any louder than a murmur. But that was fine with me. It was far better than having to use the clipboard like I had been. I learned how to let my voice carry just right so that I didn't stress my throat but made my words clear for my listeners; Tillie, Rosy, my doctor, and Nick. I learned how to emphasize 

myself without over doing it. And I also began walking almost as good as before the whole incident. I would walk over to the window and stare out at the city view I had. Above all, my creepy visitor hadn't returned.

Things were going great.

I was listening to another one of my more upbeat songs again when Tillie and Rosy both came swooping in, grinning at me. It was sort of odd but in the last few days they had sort of became my friends – and by now I knew that the expression on both their faces was deviant. They both stopped at the end of my bed and I paused my music, pulling out my earphones to hear what they had to say. "J.J. do you have any allergies?," Tillie smiled at me.

"No," I murmured.

"Are ya sure?," Rosy pressed, also smiling.

"Yeah, I'm sure." They grinned again. "Why?"

"We have some of our visitors here at the hospital today. They're friends of the hospital actually. They decided that they would swing by the children's ward, too," Rosy explained. Tillie drummed her fingernails on the rail in front of them. They kept smiling.

"Friends of the hospital?," I inquired. They nodded and Rosy went over to open the door. She made a "come in" gesture with her hand…and guy with a little Jack Russell terrier trotted in. I started grinning, too. So that's what they meant. The guy – whose name tag read "Hi, I'm Todd" – smiled at me and introduced his four-legged friend as Jerry. Jerry reared up on his haunches and planted his forepaws on the edge of the bed. He was mostly white with a few black and tan splotches and sharp little eyes. I leaned over and scratched his ears, laughing when I got a pleased little grunt in response.

"We thought you might enjoy a little company other than ourselves," Tillie said. "Nothing like a fur buddy to cheer you up, eh?" I nodded as I petted Jerry.

"This is just one of the six pals we brought in today," the guy named Todd said. "The other ones will be coming around to your room throughout the day. We probably won't leave until sometime in the evening." He leaned in to mutter with a smile, "They're all little attention hounds. Have to have the kids dote over them, you know." I just laughed at the statement, letting Jerry lick my hand for a moment or two.

Todd and Jerry visited for about fifteen minutes, Jerry more than willingly soaking up my pets and scratches. I gave him one of my saltine crackers – I had finally moved up to solid food – and watched him eat it all, sucking up the crumbs from the floor like a vacuum. Tillie was right; there was nothing like a furry little friend to make your day. Finally Jerry and Todd left to visit some of the other patients. I gave the terrier one more cracker and watched them go.

"How do you feel, J.J.?," Tillie asked when they had left.

"Not half bad. I almost forgot where exactly where I was."

"Well good!," Rosy smiled. "That's really good. We'll keep 'em coming then."

It was about thirty minutes later that the next dog and his handler came in; another guy named Steve with a white and cream-colored English bulldog. His name was Toby with a slobbery grin. Usually I wouldn't exactly like the idea of trying to have fun let alone humor myself with something that snorted and drooled mildly when it was happy. But I ended up finding myself laughing once again at my little visitor's antics – such as spinning after his stubby little tail, sliding over the floor in a game of fetch-the-ball, and just lolling on the his back as I scratched his round tummy.

When Toby and Steve had left it was about time for lunch. Rosy brought me the menu for the cafeteria, reminding me that I could eat solid food, but still had to take it easy. My stomach wasn't quiet ready yet for a full regular meal. Most liquids were okay, except soda. Water, Gatorade, sometimes tea, and fruit and vegetable juices were the norm around here. And only certain desserts were excepted, depending on the patient's current stability and healing rate. I was getting pretty close – if not already able - to having what I was craving…a couple of strawberry shortcakes.

I asked for something simple – a sandwich and some water – and Tillie went off to order it up from the cooks somewhere else in the building. Rosy sat down next to the bed and sighed. "You've come a long way in such a short amount of time," she said. "I'm surprised you healed this fast."

"It's my genetics I suppose. My family always bounced back pretty easily." I swallowed the lump in my throat at the mention of them. It was still difficult dealing with them being gone, especially as since I couldn't exactly tell anyone what had really happened. They believed that some wild animal had gotten loose in the city. They were only partially right…

"Maybe. I've met other patients like that before," she replied softly. She could tell I was having a hard time. Thankfully she wasn't looking at me with pity like she once did. "So what did you think of those two? The dogs I mean."

I knew she had deliberately changed the subject but that was okay. "They were pretty cute. I didn't think that something that looked so slobbery could be so much fun," I answered. Rosy laughed and nodded. Not long after Tillie came back in with a cellophane-wrapped sandwich and a bottle of water.

"Fresh from the cafeteria…and a vending machine," she joked. I gladly took my lunch from her, quickly peeling back the plastic on my sandwich and took a big bite. The food here 

really wasn't too bad…although sometimes it got a little bland. Dinner was always the best meal of the day. They always had something good.

I finished my lunch in good time. No sooner had I thrown the plastic wrap and the empty bottle in the trash, a knock came on the door. Rosy told them to come in. It was another dog – dog three of six that I was to see today before bed – and handler, a girl no older than Tillie with a Dachshund, a little brown one. Her name was Millie – the dog I mean – and the girl was Tina. Millie sniffed at the bed then looked at me with an almost awkward expression, tilting her head to the side.

"What?," I teased the little wiener dog. She just tilted her head further, making a little low groan as if to say "I don't know."

Millie and Tina visited for a little longer than the other two – about thirty to thirty-five minutes – also playing fetch on the slippery floor and chasing her tail in lazy circles. I couldn't tell if she was actually interested in catching the appendage or not. I commented that maybe she was trying to get herself dizzy and she stopped, tilting her head to the side to look at me again. We all laughed. They left like the others, only Millie left with her squeaky toy in her mouth, which peeped every time she took a step, or shook her ears.

After her was a medium sized dog – a German shepherd named Danny – and his handler Jim. Danny was okay but he still seemed to be in that pup stage. Probably not much older than a year, I guessed. Jim kept Danny pretty calm though, and I laughed for the umpteenth time that day at the dog, his tongue lolling out as Jim and I scratched him behind the ears. His fur wasn't as wiry as I thought it would be.

They didn't stay long though. The sun was edging towards the horizon by the time they were finished with me and they still had other patients to go. It was about time for dinner as well, and I had one more visitor on the way. I asked Rosy for the menu again and flipped to the dinner page. I scanned it over, my mouth on the verge of drooling at the possible entrée's, then handed it back to her minutes later. "Spaghetti and meatballs, and water, please," I asked. "And…a strawberry shortcake, too?"

Tillie laughed. "Yeah, sure. I think you've earned something sweet the past week or so." She tucked the menu under arm and headed out again. It kind made me feel like a freeloader again – I could walk pretty well now, so I often felt that I should go get the food myself. Maybe I'd do just that the next night, and grab something for Tillie and Rosy too. I'd probably be out of my mind by now if it weren't for the two of them.

"_Then again…_," I thought looking down my hospital gown. "_…maybe I should think of trying to dress myself first. This just feels indecent._"

Tillie swept in a little while later with another bottled water from one of the vending machines, a small plate of the tasty pasta concoction, and – making my mouth water beyond control – a fair sized shortcake…with_ real_ strawberries. "Just watch you manners," Rosy said, no doubt because of the hungry look on my face. I dug into the spaghetti with full appetite and as politely as possible. It was only about half a serving but it was sure better than nothing. I shoved large forkfuls of the stuff into my mouth, making sure not to spill a thing, taking a swig of water about every other bite. "Take it easy," Rosy said. "Slow down. Other wise your food with be coming up fast."

I nodded and took smaller, slower bites. "_Boy, the cook sure knows how to make a hell of a dish of pasta_." I finished it, licking the remaining sauce clean off my fork, and sat the plate aside. I rubbed my hands together and taking the spoon, I nosedived it right into the strawberry shortcake. I took even smaller bites of it, savoring it. "_God, dessert has never tasted better_." When I had finally finished my dinner, chasing it all down with the last of my water, the sun had just dipped behind the horizon, letting the stars shine through.

"Looks like you enjoyed yourself," Tillie commented as she took the dinnerware and set them by the bed till she would take them away. I sighed as I nodded, slumping back with a contented look on my face. It was good to know that my stomach was back in action. Rosy laughed at my expression – I must have looked like a glutton. She then looked at her watch and sighed herself.

"The doctor wanted us to give you some medicine tonight before you went to sleep. Tillie and I should be going so we can fetch that for you. It should help you sleep, help your neck and all." She stood up, grabbing the dinnerware herself. "Come on, Tillie. Sally's suppose to have it waiting for us. If we hurry, might get to see the last visitor." They both told me they would be back and left the room in a rush. Apparently they liked the dogs just as much as the patients did.

As soon the as the door had shut behind them I fished around the blankets for my mp3 player, turned it on, and started listening to one of my favorite songs. It was taking longer than usual for Tillie and Rosy to get back, but I waited patiently. I looked at the screen of my music player and found that I only had about half a battery left. I made a mental note to make sure to see if I could somehow get it charged on one of the hospitals computers. Unlikely, but I decided that I might as well ask.

As I sat there, I heard a scratching at the door just above my music. I paused the song and listened. There was another scratch, then the handle clicking open, and the door swung slowly. I watched with curiosity – and admittedly relief – when I saw the last dog of the day back into the room. It backed up till just it's head and then just it's nose stuck out the door, sniffing. It was if it were looking out for other people or something, testing the air…or maybe just trying to figure out the chemicals in the air.

"Hey, boy," I called. "What'cha doing?" The dog could only be male – he was rather large after all, and lean like he had the "the big dog of the yard" look – even though I couldn't make out what kind of breed he was. He was huge, actually. His shoulder blades would probably come up past the bed rail by me. The intense black of his fur struck some chord in me…but I couldn't seem to recall why.

"Hey, Buddy. What are you doing? Did you come to see me, huh?" The dog backed sideways, giving the floor a brief glance, then the door. A glance at the floor, then the door again, his claws making a slight clicking on the tiled floor. He repeated this process every five or six steps, until a slight clang came from somewhere down the hall and his sharp ears pricked, listening keenly. His gaze was glued on the way he had come in. My eyebrows knit in confusion as I realized something. "Hey," I murmured. "Where's your handler?"

It was then that the dog finally looked at me. I gasped when I saw two burning red eyes stare at me. For a moment I couldn't believe that I hadn't realized it sooner; he was the fiendish hound that had brought me here, the one Rosy and Tillie had saw. My mind went blank with fear then after as the dog quickly closed the small gap between me and him, firmly planting his forepaws on the bed rail, causing it to slightly rattle in place. We were now face to face, his muzzle only a few inches from the tip of my nose.

I stared at him, my breathing shaky and beginning to break out into a small sweat. My fingertips instinctively started to inch towards the nurse button between us. He noticed. A low, fearsome growl rumbled out of him, fierce enough to feel it in my own chest and he lowered his head only slightly. It was uncanny of how it resembled someone shaking their finger in an "uh-uh-uh" gesture, both threatening and oddly enthralling. My fingers halted instantly. We continued to stare at each other again. Moments later, however, he broke his gaze from mine as he began sniffing the air…sniffing my _neck_. His lips were drawn back to reveal sharp wicked teeth, enough to make me wonder how they all fit in his maw, as he leaned closer…sniffing quietly but heavily.

I held absolutely still as he came closer, his breath rushing over my goose-bumped skin. I wanted to lean away, but I dare not move. No, actually, I _couldn't_ move. I was frozen stiff with fear. I heard another growl come from him, one that I could not identify, the sound and pitch of it resonating throughout my neck and chest. Now I knew what Rosy had meant when she said she thought hell itself had been growling at her. My eyes twitched and a small whimper clung at the back of my throat as I saw the dog lick its chops, as if it were hungry and eager. I bit down hard on my bottom lip. This couldn't be it, I didn't want to die like this – eaten by some terrifying hound from my own nightmares. He sniffed again.

I jumped when I heard something click – only to realize that it was the door being opened wide. I looked up to see Rosy and Tillie stop dead in their tracks, one of them dropping an orange bottle of pills with what seemed to be a deafening clatter. The dog whipped his head 

around at the sharp sound and all the occupants of the room stared at each other. The silence seemed to hang there forever on some tiny silver wire just waiting to be snapped. Finally – probably half a second later – the tiny cord was cut, and silence fell and shattered like glass on the floor, all due to the two words that Rosy yelled;

"GET HIM!"

The room broke out into a chaotic frenzy. The hound let out a snarl that sounded more like the roar of a tiger or other predator, then leaped over the entire bed in a single bound. I fell back as it nearly collided with me, Rosy and Tillie charging after it. The dog had went to dodge around the end of the bed – and them as well – but they had somehow managed to get his back to the wall. "Keep him cornered, Tillie!," Rosy hollered over the beasts growling. "Don't let him get away! Not this time!"

The dog snarled, the shark like teeth glinting with moisture and gritted. Then in a flash he moved to their left, ducking around one of the few pieces of the furniture in the room. They followed suit, scrambling to keep up with him, Tillie even daring to reach to snatch his tail. They danced back and forth, round and round and even under the table till they had backed him near the window.

"Block it!," Rosy hollered again. "Block the window! Don't let him break through it!"

The hound continued to snarl and snap and growl and bark viciously at them. He darted between them, never letting them fully getting his back to the wall. When Rosy moved to corner him for good, he leapt over the table just as he had leapt over the bed – and came charging at me. I let out a yell as he pounced on me, his paws just missing either side of my body, face to face yet again. In a flash, the bed rail suddenly snapped down and he picked up my free hand into his mouth, the points of his teeth applying pinching pressure. Then he leapt off the side, his muzzle pointing at the bed and began to drag me off the mattress.

I made a yell of help that sent a shock of pain down my throat, as I grabbed the other bed rail, trying to hold on. But the dog growled again, as if exasperated. He applied more pressure and I yelped as I winced at the feel of his teeth digging into my flesh. Then he yanked and my hold slipped. I tumbled forward as he backed up with quick agile paws, dragging half of me onto the floor. As my legs collided with the cold tile below, Tillie sprung forward, my trusty flashlight in hand.

"Get off of her, let go!" The sound of the flashlight cracking firmly against the hound's skull made me wince, the brief feeling of relief that she had missed me flooding me for only a second. My beastly captor shook his massive head in a rush before turning on her with a loud angry bark, his hackles raised. He snapped out and to my relief, he only snatched onto the handle of the flashlight – his teeth crunching straight through the metal. The hound tensed and with the whip of his head, he sent her flying back to hit the wall. Then he gave us all one more growl and 

dashed out of the room, leaving long gouges in the floor with his claws. Rosy chased after him through the door as he went down the hall, making people scream, and yelling for somebody to stop him.

He was gone.

Tillie shook her head, probing at the back of it where she had hit the wall. "Jolene? Are you alright?" She crawled towards me and sat down next to me as I slowly sat up. My throat hurt and so did my hand. She picked up my hand and looked it over as I winced. She sighed. "You're lucky. It looks like he just pinched a blood vessel, not break the skin." She looked at me. "How's your throat?"

"Sore now," I muttered, putting a hand over my bandages. I was starting to shaky a little, probably from the adrenaline rush and all.

Rosy came back into the room, picking up the pills from the floor before she wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "It's alright now, Jolene. He's gone. No one's going to get ya." She looked me over then down at the orange bottle in her hand. "I'd bet my wages of this month that you need these," she muttered. She opened the bottle with a sigh and tapped out the dosage – two tablets. She had just put the cap back on when another nurse – one I recognized as one of the ones at the desk – came in a little short of breath. "Have you found him, Janey?," Rosy snapped.

The young nurse apparently called Janey licked her lips in agitation and shook her head. Rosy made a noise of annoyance, shaking her own head. "Blast."

"Rosy…I don't think…He…" Janey trailed off gazing at the floor, looking puzzled, in awe, and a little scared.

"Out with it, Janey!"

She shook her head. "Rosy…We never saw him on the tapes! We were watching the monitors about the time he arrived – we didn't see him!" At Rosy's look of confusion she continued. "Anna and I just looked over it a moment ago when I came back from looking for that thing. It's right there on the monitor! He wasn't anywhere in any of the halls prior to this…and he just – It's like he materialized out of the air itself in front of the door, opened it and walked right in! And after he went running down the stairs, he just disappeared! He isn't on the tapes and we both hurried and checked to see if he hid somewhere. He's vanished! Came out of nowhere, disappeared to no where!"

Rosy and Tillie sat there in awe and some fear. Tillie blinked, looking back and forth between Janey and us. "But…how did he get in?," she whispered. Rosy's arm tightened around me and I looked up into her face. I looked her in the eye and instantly I knew what she was thinking. It was almost clear as day, as Tillie's question rang through our heads. If that dog could get in, then what – or who – couldn't?

Rosy was beginning to believe me…and my "boogeyman".

**Author's Note – **I know, I know. It's really late. But I actually have been really busy guys. I'm trying my best to get this updated – and get The Princess of Hellsing and the Paladin Meet – but it's been really difficult. Please forgive me. I'm sorry! I hope you like it. I tried my best to make it good in order to make up for how late it is. Anyway, PLEASE review, even if it isn't to be nice. I'll be working on the next one as soon as possible. Also, toss me a few ideas for future chapters – I've only got three or so others and I want to make this series longer than that. Besides, I know there are a few fangirls out there with good juicy ideas for our smexy Alucard. Auf Wiedersehen!


	6. Chapter 6 Escape or Kidnap

**Author's Note – **Okay, to start this off, if your getting sick of the whole hospital scene – good news! You don't have to put up with it anymore! Not after this one anyway. I would like to keep this realistic by putting in more hospital parts but I'm starting to run out of ideas for them. And I think I'm ready to advance to where the Reader begins to get to know our favorite, smexy Nosferatu (without turning this into a freaking Mary Sue). Yay! So here you are. Disclaimer – **I do not own anything except for my own legal copies of Hellsing: Ultimate and the Hellsing manga, neither of which I claim to have created. This fic is not made for profit nor will it ever be.**

The pills that Rosy gave me that night did just as she said they would. Even though paranoia stayed with me just at the edges of my mind, I slept rather soundly throughout the rest of the evening. I had slight nightmares of course, but nothing to completely startle me awake. I kept seeing the giant hound trying to drag me away by my hand, his teeth clamped firmly on my hand, red eyes flaring…

The following morning I also slept through. When I woke up, it was probably about eleven or noon. I wondered if I had just rested enough to rid my system of the excess nerves or if I was being a bit of a slob or something. I sat up in bed slowly, immediately checking my hand. Tillie was right – he hadn't broken the skin. But he did leave a couple of bruises where his teeth had pinched a vein or something. They were mostly a dark blue with just a tinge of purple. Luckily, they were nothing to really worry about, just uncomfortable reminders.

I shook my head and rested my hand back down, looking for my mp3 player. The entire story of the giant black dog had spread faster than wildfire in a scorching summer, leading to the double in security in the hospital. Part of it included the nurses having to patrol the wards in almost every spare moment. Altogether that meant that the entire building – especially in this ward – was in panic, and Tillie and Rosy would have little time to visit me. So, my mp3 player would have to keep me somewhat entertained for awhile.

When I found it – wrapped and twisted in the sheets of my bed – I started it up and went through my songs. When I found something suitable, I plugged in my ears and sat back against the pillows again. I kept the volume just loud enough for me to reasonably hear and stared at the ceiling. The night from before went through my head, bits and pieces of it swirling around in my mind like the tiles of a Chinese puzzle box. I couldn't believe that Tillie had been so brave – or maybe stupid – to beat that dog over the head with the flashlight like she had. I was very grateful of course…but she had really scared me. Rosy, too. They both had been really daring.

I sighed and sat up again. I wouldn't be able to stay still today, I could feel it. With that in mind, I dropped the side railing of the bed, swung my legs over precariously, and with mp3 player in hand, I slid myself slowly onto my feet. Thanks to my quick progression in rehabilitation, I could walk for a minute of two on my own, before things got difficult. I kept one hand on the side of the bed as I walked over to the window and peered out at the city. Not much to see of course. Just a few really old buildings, a few little shops, and a tall business building or two. I sighed again. How much longer was I going to stay here?

&

It took about three to four hours before Tillie and Rosy could come and see me. They looked rather haggard and tired, and I felt sorry for them. I also felt a bit responsible for this entire mess. After all, it was becoming rather clear that that thing, that was putting a good grip of fear on the hospital, was after me. I watched them sit down by my bed next to each other, their eyes beginning to tinge red with weariness.

"I highly doubt that dog is ever coming back. Not when we have all of the staff on patrol and what not," Tillie sighed, scratching her head. Rosy said nothing, seeming to intentionally look down at the floor as her younger comrade continued. "You doing okay? After last night and everything?"

"Yeah," I muttered. "I'm okay."

"Good to hear," Rosy said with a tired smile. "If we're lucky, we'll have a cup of coffee or two left by the end of the day." They both laughed at their semi-serious joke. "Everyone has had at least two cups already. Already we're having a crisis on the shortage of caffeine." Rosy shook her hands and fingers in mock panic at this and we laughed again.

"Maybe we'll be able to sneak in a nap somewhere," Tillie suggested.

"Unlikely," Rosy practically grumbled.

I stared at her for a moment. She seemed a little different today. No, that was incorrect. I _knew_ something was wrong with her. Ever since the dog had pulled that little Houdini stunt, she had been a little on edge. Or at least that was what I could figure. I knew she was beginning to catch on to what I had been trying to tell her all along. And it wasn't an idea that she liked one bit. I could tell. I knew.

At that moment, Tillie excused herself to the restroom for a moment, and left me and Rosy with each other by the bed. As she went out the door – I assumed nurses weren't really allowed to use the patient bathrooms – my eyes flitted to Rosy. She had watched Tillie go just as I had. When she looked back at me, turning away from the door, we both knew that Tillie had no idea. Tillie didn't know that the hound had been something more than just wild animal.

There was a slight awkward silence as we both looked down in our laps. I glanced at the window for a moment or two, then when I finally got tired of the quiet, I asked her the question we both had been thinking about.

"Rosy…Do you…believe me?"

She looked up at me from her lap. Her eyes kind of searched mine, without me being able to search hers. I waited, feeling slightly awkward as she continued to look at me. Then she sighed. She pursed her lips, released them, then said, "A lot of freaky things have been happening around here. Specifically, since you arrived. I don't generally dabble or associate myself with anything that most would call… 'paranormal'. But…" She looked at me again.

"I believe you, Jolene." She shook her head. "I don't know if that beast and your 'boogeyman' are connected but – I believe you. And if I have any say in the matter, neither one of 'em are going to touch you." Rosy then reached out and squeezed my hand. "If anything weird or suspicious starts to happening, you call me. You understand?"

I nodded and she let go with a smile. She slightly leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Besides," she said with a coy smile. "If they leave you alone, that means we can all get some proper rest." I smiled half-heartedly at her joke, even though she was right. A moment or two later, Tillie came back in.

"We have to go back out," she said with a frown. "Janey said she would report us we didn't go right now."

I heard something like a growl of disgust from them both as Rosy stood up and headed for the door. "I'll send someone to fetch you some lunch," Tillie called back. "See you later tonight." I nodded, gave my thanks, and waved. When the door clicked shut, I shuffled around the blankets again until I found my mp3 player. I turned it on – and despairingly finding it only with a fourth of the battery left – and selected a song to listen to only once or twice.

A male nurse came in a little while later with a menu. I asked for soup – I wasn't too hungry – and he brought it back before rushing out the door. I guess he had been threatened with being reported, like Tillie and Rosy had been. I shrugged and ate my lunch within ten minutes. The soup was okay, but not their best. Probably another sign of the lock-down. When I finished, I sat the bowl aside and leaned back onto the mattress. I might as well get comfortable. Thanks to my luck and this lockdown, it would be awhile before they finally released me.

&

When dinner time came around, the same male nurse from that afternoon came in with a menu again. With a bit more appetite, I ordered soup again, and a dessert that had a name I couldn't pronounce. I was just finishing up the soup when Tillie and Rosy came in again. They looked just as tired as the last time. They both sat down by the bed and sighed almost in a comical fashion.

"We'll be here for only a moment," Tillie said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Someone got caught taking a nap, so they've bumped up the rounds again," Rosy continued, looking sour. I thought I saw a vein throbbing in her head.

"Uh…who got caught?," I asked.

"Janey," they responded in bitter unison. I shook my head.

"So how has the day been treating you?," Tillie said, still massaging the top of her nose between her eyes.

"Well, not bad I guess." I held up my mp3 player. "But my current source of entertainment is getting low. Could I possibly have it charged here?" Rosy took it from my hand as I began munching on my dessert.

"I suppose we could. Only if you have the USB cable, of course."

"Could you have it for me in about an hour? I think I better catch up on some sleep tonight," I said.

"Yeah, sure," Tillie said.

There was a knock on the door and – to a certain pair of nurses' dismay and agitation – Janey poked her head in. Rosy and Tillie practically glared at, their slightly bloodshot eyes filled with spite. Janey quickly told them that they were needed for patrols and then basically dashed away. I told my friends goodbye again, Tillie holding my music and USB cable in one hand as they went out the door. I leaned back in the mattress again and sighed. I felt guilty. I sort of was the source of commotion after all, and I was pretty sure that they were patrolling this hall a bit more than the rest. I just hoped that maybe some good would come from it.

Shaking my head, I finished my dessert, sat the dish aside, and waited. They came back exactly an hour later, Tillie gave me my fully charged mp3, and we all said goodnight. I wished them good luck – they would probably need it. Then I tried to relax and began falling asleep…

&

It didn't seem like anymore than twenty to thirty minutes when my eyes snapped open. I hadn't been dreaming, and I wasn't uncomfortable. But nonetheless, my body practically screamed at me to wake up. My chest felt like there was a small chill in its center, which I guessed was unbidden paranoia or maybe fear. My eyes darted around the room a little before I sat up in bed, slowly. It was completely dark. The little bit of light that came into my room was from the glow of the city.

And it was a bit too quiet.

The beep of my heart was a small nuisance, one that I didn't really notice. I was too busy trying to figure out why I woke up. As I sat there, it occurred to me that it was rather late. My internal clock guessed that it was about twelve-thirty or one. But even so, I felt that the quiet, both from in my room and out into the hall, were not due to the late hour. I didn't even hear anyone coming down the ward, just the small drone of the heart monitor and a computer somewhere outside the room. The lack of noise was just…agitating.

I felt the paranoia in my chest inflate the tiniest degree. I debated with myself for a moment; I could stay here in bed and pray that I wouldn't be a sitting duck, or I could carefully walk to the door and take a peek down the hall to see if anything was wrong. I thought over and over my options again. Finally, hoping that I would make the right choice, I quietly put the bed rail down. I swung my legs over the edge, peering into the dark corners of my room to try and spot anyone there. Seeing nothing, I slowly planted my feet on the floor. It felt cold tonight, slightly chilling the soles of my feet, and I scrunched my toes to try and adjust. So far, so good.

Giving the room one more glance and grabbing the stand for the IV before doing much more, I slowly approached the door. I made sure not to make a sound, half holding my breath for that very reason. When it was within reach, I put my hand on the door handle. I waited for a moment. I still didn't hear anything. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Calming my nerves just enough, I slowly turned it and opened the door, peering out into the hall.

The entire hall seemed completely vacant, except for a cleaning lady, who was languidly mopping the floor. It didn't seem right. "_What about the patrols?_" I thought. I turned to the lady, whose back was turned to me. "Excuse me," I said, just enough for her to hear me. I saw her head move as if she were listening. "Where is everyone?"

"Meeting," she said in a slightly dreamy voice. I assumed she was tired like the others. "Reassigning patrols," she continued, not bothering me a glance.

"Oh…Okay. Good night." She didn't say anything, and I leaned back into the room to leave her to her cleaning. I frowned at the door, my hand still on the handle. It didn't quite make sense – freaking out about patrols and then ditching their posts for as little as a few minutes to argue about it. Hadn't anyone stayed behind to watch – besides the lady with the sloppy mop? I shook my head, turning away to go back to bed.

I ran into someone instead.

As I drew in a breath to make a sound – shout, scream, anything! – the tall individual I had bumped into held up a long, thin finger just an inch or two in front of my face. It worked – I stayed quiet. He drew back his hand and instead picked up my own. I made a small yelp when the heart monitor suddenly went dead, and he smoothly removed the IV from my hand, tape and all, in a flash. He uncaringly pushed the IV and monitor into a corner, where it disappeared somewhat in the shadows.

With his cool, gloved fingers wrapped around my wrist, he began heading for the door. I instinctively planted my heels into the tile, leaning away from him. It didn't so much as teeter him but he did pause. Just barely visible from under a wide-brimmed hat, which was as red as his long coat and tinted glasses, I saw a faint glittering grin.

"I could just drag you out of here, you know," he said in a tone of slight amusement. "Or…I could let the ones who got you in here, maul you in this little room." My eyes widened. I felt my legs slightly weaken. Such a dilemma. And looking at him I realized that I really didn't have much choice. At seeing this, he started for the door again and I stumbled after him, most of my body and mind demanding that I didn't go anywhere with him.

I thought he would try to at least sneak out the door, or maybe try to make a run for it. But when we reached the door, we simply walked out. As we passed the cleaning lady, I stared at her in surprise as she made no move to stop us. It was like she didn't even see us. She had a dazed expression on her face, her eyes oddly vacant as she continued to mop the same spot over and over, staring ahead at nothing. I watched her until we had gone far enough down the hall that we turned the corner.

I looked forward again as we began to descend the stairs. I stared at my kidnapper…or, in this case, was he a rescuer? Which ever it was, I stared at the back of him – the broad shoulders, the hat, the midnight-colored hair, - unable to understand how he could be so calm. It was like he knew that he wasn't going to get caught, and if he somehow did, he would easily escape with me in tow. As we continued down the stairs, we encountered yet another nurse on the landing, the male nurse from earlier. He was slumped in the corner, head bowed with the same dazed expression, sort of smiling at the floor. He didn't make a move to stop us either. Then I got the biggest shock yet. On the next landing, Tillie stood against the wall, watching us also with a dazed expression.

"Tillie…?" I whispered, also now feeling a small daze. As we passed, she seemed to tilt her head at us, which seemed to be unusual compared to the other odd nurses' conditions. I saw out of the corner of my eye, my "escort" look at her, seeming to lock eyes with her, and slightly grin again.

"Everything's perfectly fine," she said her tone dreamy and almost stoned. I noticed the weird, faint orange-ish gleam her eyes gave off as she said it. And we continued on.

As I stumbled after him, I suddenly realized what was probably going on. They had left someone to keep watch. But he had done something to them – hypnotizing them in a quick and efficient way – allowing him to come and go as he pleased. By the time everyone got back from arguing about patrols, no one would realize what had happened. They probably wouldn't know I was gone until morning.

The stairs ended, but I could tell by looking out the window (with some irony it was now raining, the beginning of an English summer) that we hadn't reached the ground floor. He turned onto the hall that met with the staircase, still calmly walking out. We were approaching what I could guess was the last bit of stairs before the ground floor, when I heard the sound of the elevator reaching our floor. We both paused as we heard the doors swing open, and looked back. Rosy stepped out, cursing "ignorant staff members", and idly giving a glance in our direction. She stopped stock still for a brief second, her eyes going wide at the sight of us.

"Hey!," she shouted, starting to run for us. "Stop!!"

I turned back to glance at him. But before my eyes could even fully look at him, his arm wrapped around my shoulders while the other hand was planted on the railing. I thought he heard him make a small chuckle…right before he vaulted us over the rail. I gave a loud yelp of surprise as we flew over, rapidly falling to the ground floor. The moment his feet touched the tile, he wrapped his hand around my wrist again and began almost running for the door. It was hard to keep up, his stride was so much longer than mine. I looked back again to see Rosy mimic us and vault over the railing.

"Get back here with that girl!," she shouted after us. I thought that perhaps she might catch us before we reached the front entrance, that she just might get close enough to tackle him or me, or both. But when we were just within a few feet of the door, both elevators on the ground floor opened, and what I could assume were the staff and employees – undoubtedly those who had been arguing over patrols – rushed out into the hall. Rosy got caught up in the throng. Just as we swept out the door I could hear her yelling, "Call the police! Call the police! She's been kidnapped! You idiots, call THE POLICE!!"

When we swept out the front and quickly around to the side, I gasped at the cold wind and freezing rain pelting down. My gown was nowhere near enough. But he continued on, and I continued trying to keep up, my throat beginning to ache. We continued on for a moment, winding through back alleys, and deserted districts, until finally he stopped, looking behind us. I could hear cop cars about a block away. As we stood there, I doubled over, one hand on my knees. I felt ghastly. My head was pounding, my throat was throbbing, and there were little black and purple dots that pounded in time with my heartbeat in front of my eyes. My lungs were burning for need of air, even though the chill in it made my lungs hurt worse. I was shivering uncontrollably. My bare feet felt sore for pounding on concrete and cobble ways.

My vision blurred from the rain and my condition. I felt like that right then and there I could just take a nap on the sidewalk. To hell with the weather, to hell with him, I needed to rest. My knees started to fail me, and in a slight haze I thought I heard him say something about "lost our trail" and "take a quicker way". As I began kneeling down to take that nice long nap, my world became disoriented. I thought that I was floating for a moment until I realized that he had picked me up. I didn't really care. Let him carry me – it's his fault. I just didn't like the fact my gown was probably soaked by now, and semi-see-through.

He didn't start moving though. Or at least, it didn't seem like it. Instead, blackness appeared to have overtaken us and when I opened my eyes, he was walking in a huge room. I assumed that we had arrived at some mansion or something while I was passed out – that was the only thing I could possibly think had happened. As he started off in some direction, I heard men talking and joking among themselves. As we drew closer I heard one call out, "Ah, zere you are Mizter Alucard! Integra's been-!" But the man stopped short and the men seemed to begin talking amongst themselves in whispers. I realized it had something to do with me. "Zee Boss Lady isn't going to like zis one," the man said as we passed.

As we drew farther and farther away – I still didn't know where we were going because I had shut my eyes – it seemed that we were headed down to lower levels. I heard another voice moments later. "Oh, you're back Ma-." A pause. "Master! What did you-!? Who-?!"

"Don't prattle, Police Girl," my kidnapper/rescuer said almost in a bored manner. "Just go get Walter, now."

"Y-yes, Sir!" I heard the girl run off in the opposite direction. Minutes later, I heard someone draw up behind him.

"For heavens sake, Alucard. Did you really kidnap this poor girl from a _hospital_?" This voice sounded like that of a polished, English aristocrat.

"Wouldn't it appear that way, Walter? And who ever said that I kidnapped her?," my captor drawled, this "Alucard" guy.

"_I look and feel like crap and I'm soaking wet in a hospital gown. Of course they think you kidnapped me, didn't you?_," I thought fuzzily.

I heard a door being pushed open and I heard the man called Walter sigh. From a far off, I could hear two sets of footsteps, one I recognized as the "Police Girl's" and the other sounding impatient. Maybe angry. "We're going to have to get her out of that gown. I'm certain she has a high fever," the man continued. I groaned.

"_Oh c'mon, no! Don't take it off! I don't care if it's cold, let me die with dignity!_"

The girl and the other person with the agitated footsteps entered the room. "Another one, Alucard?," a woman practically growled, somewhere behind him. "You brought home another random girl to this place!"

"No, not randomly, Master."

"You're kidding. _That_ is the survivor from that incident in London? That girl!" I heard the woman make a noise of frustration. "Well at least you had half a mind to not change her this time! Instead you dragged her out of a hospital into this weather, at three A.M!" The woman was so angry and intimidating that I was surprised that my captor didn't cringe. Instead he seemed to quietly laugh. I heard the woman storm out of the room, calling back, "The Police Girl can help her change. I want you to leave her alone in Walter's care, and stay in your chambers till tomorrow evening! Go!"

I heard the sound of covers being drawn back and I almost sighed with relief. A bed, thank heavens. I was put on top. "See you tomorrow evening, Walter," my source of trouble drawled. Then he seemed to disappear. Walter sighed and I finally attempted to open my eyes. My vision was still a bit blurry. The guy had been right; I could tell that I had a fever now. The room wasn't too big and I could just make out two figures. One was a yellowish curvy blob, and the other a tall, thin form.

"Miss Victoria, I believe I'll leave you to it. The least we can do is try to give her _some_ privacy."

"O-okay. I'll call you back in when I'm done." I heard him agree and saw the taller form walk out and close the brown smudge that was the door. The yellowish blob drew closer and when it was within a foot from my face, I could just make out the worried expression of girl probably not much older than me. Her blue eyes and short, spiky blonde hair kind of threw me off with my poor vision.

"I have some warm pajamas for you," she said a little slowly, probably making sure that I could still hear – or I was still conscious. "Can you sit up? I'm going to help you get out this wet gown." I nodded a little and tried to push myself up. She had to do most of the work of sitting me up straight, and then trying to help me pull the stupid, sopping cloth over my head. She managed to get the pants on me and my arm in one sleeve of the shirt before I began feeling dizzy. I was grateful, though embarrassed, that she finished up the buttons on the shirt before calling Walter back in.

"I think she's about to pass out," the girl said in a worried tone.

"I'm sure she'll be alright. She just needs some rest somewhere warm. Oh, and we need to get those wet bandages off. We don't want whatever wound she has to get infected."

I felt someone reach over and tear the bandages little by little, before finally lifting my head and unwrapping them. I tried to stop them – I didn't know how bad the damage was. But I was just to out of it and tired to do anything. I heard the girl make a small gasp and the man saying, "Oh dear." I made a noise and I saw the tall form lean over me. With my vision, he was a tall dark mass with a glaring piece of glass. The word "monocle" came to mind.

"Just relax. You're safe for now," he said. I felt his hand pat my shoulder. And then I blinked once, twice, and passed out.

**Author's Note – **Yay! I finally finished this chapter! Anyway, I'm in a fairly good mood because I "read" the final chapter of Hellsing. I almost screamed for joy when Alucard came back. And the last page was certainly a booster (smiles big). But I'm also a little sad that Hellsing is over. Now, all that's left is to wait for the rest of the OVA's. Anyway, enough about that. I tried to write this in a hurry and decently. But once again, school is a big pain in my butt. Four straight hours of testing is torture. I hope you liked this guys. Please review; I need more suggestions for future chapters to keep this going. I know a few of you out there have smexy ideas about Alucard, heh, heh. I'll update again when I can.


	7. Chapter 7 Day 1 in Hellsing

**Author's Note – Thank Heavens! **I can finally update! Sorry, but my computer had a mega-virus that was a mega pain in the you-know-where! Plus play practice – "Once Upon a Mattress" – chores, and college-prep math…I could go on. Anyway,I'm glad you guys like this story. To start things off; thanks for the awesome reviews. I've been needing those. I find it ironic however that, even though I'm an anti-twilight person (no offense), this sounds similar. (Sigh) Oh well, I guess with the whole hospital thing, that really couldn't be helped. But thanks again. Also a big thanks to everyone else who reviewed. The series will be sounding a little different from here on out, but I promise it will remain original as possible and in no way Mary-Sue. Mary-Sues should burn! (coughs) So… I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. Disclaimer – **I don't own Hellsing or anything else.**

The first thing I noticed when I woke up – for the umpteenth time mind you – was the blankets. Immediately I knew that I wasn't in the hospital anymore, these blankets were warmer. Maybe because they were a little heavier. The second thing was the butler looming over me. I sort of locked up in surprise at seeing him.

"Good morning, Miss. I'm sorry to startle you. I thought it best to see how you were doing."

I sat up slowly, eyeing him wearily. He seemed like a rather slim sort of person and probably in his late sixties or early seventies. His dark hair was tightly pulled back into a proper ponytail – '_A butler with a ponytail?_' – and a gleaming monocle over his left eye. He didn't wear the usual, tailcoat and suspenders, but he was well groomed and nicely dressed. I couldn't sense any weird vibes coming off of him so far, but I thought it best to be cautious first.

"Who are you?," I asked, slowly sitting up in bed.

"Ah, yes. Introductions should be made." He bowed slightly at the waist and smiled. "Walter C. Dornez, butler to the Hellsing family, Miss. Would you care to introduce yourself over some breakfast?" He made a motion with his hand and I finally noticed the portable side-table with a tray _loaded_ with…

"Food!" I exclaimed with relief and eagerness. I tossed the blankets back with a flash and I was upon the tray within in seconds. I grabbed the first thing I touched – a fresh, warm blueberry muffin – and began to wolf it down. A searing pain in my neck forced me to choke, however, and I started to hack and cough.

"Slow down, Miss! Don't rush yourself!" Walter began to pat my back which helped to stop the choking…sort of. "You shouldn't have strained your voice and throat like that. You heal nicely, but I doubt you're completely good as new." I mentally agreed with him. He was right.

"Sorry," I rasped. "I'm just really hungry. My stomach does most of the talking for me."

He chuckled. "Oh don't worry. I know all about teenage girls and their demanding food intake." He held a hand to my forehead for a moment then smiled. "Seems that your fever broke rather early." Walter stood up. "Shall we try the introductions again?"

"Oh. Right. Um…" I held out my hand, the one without a vise grip on the muffin. "Jolene. Jolene Abbey Tompson. But you can call me J.J. or Jo. Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Tompson."

I nodded and smiled then looked at my current room. It wasn't bad. Bigger than the one I had back home, that was for sure. It was all decked out in English tastes; finely carved round table, three-drawer nightstand, a tall armoire in a cherry tint, Persian rug that covered most of the floor, an oval gilded mirror on the wall, and the four poster bed that I currently was inhabiting. If it wasn't for the stone floor and walls, I would have called it cozy.

"Can I uh…ask you something?"

"Well certainly."

"Good. Um…I was wondering…" I shrugged. "Where am I exactly?"

"Normally I would answer but I'm afraid I'll have to leave that to Sir Integra," he smiled.

"Sir…? Wha..?"

"Don't worry. You'll understand in good time." He chuckled at my expression. "You're in better condition I see than last night. But you're still a little pale. I'm sure the food will do you good. Now if you will excuse me, Miss, I believe there are other matters I must attend to. Good day." And he turned away.

"Err…wait, please."

He stopped. "Yes?"

"About last night…How did I get here?" When he smiled a little I continued. "I mean I know _how_ I got here but…Who…?"

"Ah, yes. That would be Master Alucard." I thought I saw him roll his eyes but I wasn't sure. "I do sincerely apologize for that. He actually is a very brilliant if not cunning individual – and eccentric," he muttered this last bit. "But sometimes his actions imply quiet differently. It's certain that he'll get quite an earful this evening from Sir Integra…Not that he'll really _care_…"

I frowned deep in thought. "He's – different, isn't he?"

"Like I said, he can be very eccentric -."

"That's not what I meant," I said carefully.

Walter cocked his head at me. "Oh?"

"He's…not…" I nibbled on my lip. When I saw the small knowing look in the butler's eye and the knowing smile, I nibbled a little harder. "He's not -."

"You're observant, a good trait to have in your current situation," he smiled. Then his tone lowered. The smile did not fade but changed a little into knowing again. "And no, Miss. He isn't." I pondered over that for a moment.

"Is he - ?"

"I do hate to cut this short but duty calls, Miss. If you would please excuse me." He bowed a little at the waist, the smile turning back to hospitality.

"Oh. Right. Good day, then."

oOo

After pigging out on the loaded tray of food, my stomach more than pleased with my offering, I leaned back on the bed and debated with myself. After assessing my situation, there were a few things I was certain of. First, I was obviously not where I was supposed to be. I would have been immediately informed of my location had this not been the case. Instead, thanks to my short conversation with Walter, I was certain that wherever I was, I wasn't exactly welcome. Secondly, even though I wasn't exactly welcome I wasn't met with hostility either. Or at least, not yet. I had been tended to in my feverish state, fed upon awakening, given a pleasant room, and apparently the people who lived or worked here were allowed to speak to me. A good sign. And thirdly, the people here – or at least one in particular – were not your average, everyday people.

So with all this in mind, I had a choice to make. Either sit here and wait for somebody to come along and tell me what's going on, or take a risk and explore my surroundings.

"I'm an idiot," I said, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

The floor was cold, not unlike the hospital floor last night, with the exception that the stone was not completely flat. But I stamped my feet for a moment before heading to the door, tested the knob – unlocked, I wasn't completely prisoner – and peeked out. To my left the hall extended back for about a hundred feet or so before the lights were too dim to see much. I was grateful to find that my room was only fifteen feet from a set of stairs sitting to the right, leading up and out of what I assumed was the basement. I was the only one there.

With a quick glance back down the hallway at the darkness – I'd seen far too many horror movies to just go skipping out there – I ran to the stairs, taking two at a time till I could no longer see the hall. The next level had to have been the ground floor, simply because the bright morning light was streaming through tall windows, dashing across the floor and bouncing up to blind my eyes. I cringed at the shock of illumination, adjusted and peered again. The hall was empty, something I found a little odd. By the amount of light and my guesstimating internal clock, it must have been close to eleven or noon. I walked down the hall and took the first right.

"Don't know where I'm going, but there's no use being late," I shrugged.

For about ten minutes I wandered the massive halls. And I do mean massive. They were modestly wide, but the ceiling soared rather high. Or perhaps it was just because I was short. The walls were done in a not-so-tacky wallpaper and decked with numerous works of art. Sergeant, Monet, a few religious paintings I recognized but whose artists I could not name, and some classical pieces I hadn't seen before.

"These people are loaded," I mumbled. "That's a freaking original, right there!"

As I wandered amongst and admired the habitant's impressive collection – thoroughly distracted by it all – I suddenly collided into a wall. I growled at the unexpected shock to my nose and stepped back a little, the walls hands grabbing my shoul-.

My eyes snapped open. Hands? I looked up to find that I had in fact not bumped into a wall. Just a tall, well-built man. I blinked, my mind slowly processing who was before me. He couldn't have been any older than twenty-seven, with a handsome face, though not the pretty boy type. He wore a felt cowboy-like hat with the left side of the brim pinned up to the crown by some round emblem I couldn't quiet make out –'_Damn my height!'_ - , and covered reddish-brown hair. Really long hair, I realized as I noticed the braid looped twice round his neck with a red scarf. My blasted teenage hormones took special note of that – I had a weakness for guys with well-kept long hair. '_Crap…'_

"Where do you zink you're going?" he asked with a small grin.

'_And French. He's got the accent going. Double crap!'_ I blinked, trying to fire up my brain for response. "Uh… I was…don't know…"

"Shit, did he pull that damn evil-love beam again?" he mumbled, a small scowl on his face. He stooped to look me directly in the eye. I blinked rapidly. He wore an odd strip over the bridge of his nose as if it were broken, and an eye patch over his left eye.

'_Green eyes –err, eye -! Triple crap! I swear if he had black hair and less tan-!'_ I shook my head. I needed my brain to work. "Wait…Did you say 'evil-love beam'?" That struck a familiar chord. Not the best response on my part though.

"He didn't. Never mind." He flashed a grin. "Anyway, you should be back downstairs."

"Hold on. Who were you talking about? Did you mean the red -?"

"Look, you should be in your room," he interrupted. "This isn't exactly the safest place for little girls -."

"Whoa! 'Little girl'? Now hold on, I'm not very old but I'm not six either -!"

The Frenchman however had other plans, as he spun me around and begin pushing me back down the hall. "You should really get your rest," he said cheerily, then mumbled, "Ze Boss Lady will dock my pay if I don't keep you out of trouble. Why _I _have to play babysitter, I have no clue…" He shook his head as I tried to stop our backtracking to the lower levels. Then he smirked. "And trust me, even with only one eye, I can see zat you're not zat _little_."

That threw me off a little. I felt a blush begin to warm my cheeks, forgetting that he was still escorting me to my room. '_Did…he just…hit on me?'_ I scowled. _'Stupid hormones, stupid blush!'_

"N-now wait just a second! Why can't I - ?"

"I swear you're as bad as the _mignonette_," he grumbled. "Look, we can eizer do zis ze easy way or the hard way. I'm just doing my job – or at least ze part I've suddenly been assigned since last night…"

"Then why don't you just work out a compromise with me. You could give me a tour, that way you can keep an eye on me. Honestly, what's the big deal?"

"'Cause the only place _Trouble_ isn't supposed to go is in your room. Now…"

"Huh? What the crap does that mean?" I snapped trying to push him back. Tile floors and bare feet just don't work though.

"Hard way it is," he sighed and, without so much as a split-second hesitation, he scooped down, hoisted me up, and threw me over his shoulder.

"Hey!!"

"Zis is ze hard way," he said, quickly beginning to walk back the way I had came. It was if I was just a sack of flour.

"Put me down, gently and slowly. Now! What the hell!"

"Just following orders. Actually, I zink I should take ze hard way more often; It's a pleasant view," he chuckled.

I nailed the back of his head promptly with my elbow. My neck was starting to hurt, probably from the rush of blood to my head. He cursed, or at least I figured it was French. "Look, I'm about to pass out and I'm not too fond of strangers staring at my ass! Put me down!"

"You have some of ze boniest elbows! Captain Pip Bernadette of the Wild Geese, at your escorting service. Zere, now I'm not a stranger. More comfortable?" And he continued on his way.

"Oh come on! Captain, put me down! My neck doesn't feel too good like this, neither does my head…"

"I just need to get your back to your room before…"

"Yes, do put her down, Captain."

My escort suddenly stopped in his tracks. I stiffened up too. I knew that voice. "Aww, shitfuck!" Apparently the Captain knew exactly who it was too.

**A/N; **Yes, another cliffy of sorts. As you can see, I made Jo more of an OC than anything else. I just couldn't keep her as open as possible in order to keep this as a Reader-insert fic. So sorry that it took so freaking long to update. And I apologize if this chapter wasn't as good or as long as the others. I kinda had to force it out. But please do review! I'm dying to read some reviews. (Makes puppy dog face.)


End file.
